A Blade Recast
by Zahariel
Summary: In the inferno at the end of the Fourth Grail War, a broken boy becomes host to another broken thing, drawn by the dark light of the flames, leading to both becoming something no one could have predicted. Shirou x Harem. Crossover with the RH!Warhammer 40000, one of my other stories. NOT canon to the Roboutian Heresy !
1. Prologue

**AN : **Alright, I am pretty sure a lot of you have questions. First among those are probably _"What ?" _and _"Why ?"_, and in order to answer them, we must start … at the beginning.

_September 16__th__, 2019, 6:20 AM (UTC +1) :_ On page 228 of the Spacebattles forum thread of the Roboutian Heresy (therefore referred to as "RH), the individual identified as "MalcadorLite" (therefore referred to as "the Source") jokingly suggests the idea of a crossover between the RH and the franchise known as Fate/Stay Night (therefore referred to as "FSN").

_September 16__th__, 2019, 5:30 PM :_ While checking his notifications on Spacebattles, Zahariel (therefore referred to as "the Author") notices the Source's post. Initial attempts at dismissing the memetic infection fail within minutes. Less than half an hour after exposure, the Author opens a Word document and starts typing how such a crossover could possibly be done.

_September 16__th__, 2019, 11:43 PM :_ After hours of writing, the Author finishes a first tentative draft of the mechanics of a crossover between RH and FSN, as well as a starting plot. In a fit of pique at having had his time consumed by the memetic infection caused by the Source, the Author publishes the draft on page 230 of the Spacebattles forum thread, vowing vengeance against the Source in the same post.

In the months that followed, I kept going back to that idea. I consulted the wikis, I watched the movies, I even installed an emulated version of _Fate : Grand Order _on my computer, losing dozens of hours of my life to that insidious, well-written time-vampire of a game. I wrote down the guidelines for an entire set of narrative arcs, all the way to the epilogue. I dreamt of the Fifth Grail War, of the great and terrible things that could happen then. I wrote the names of Servants and Masters, and painstakingly crafted the aria of a Reality Marble unlike any other. I conceived of an entire narrative arc constructed around the simple principle of the characters discovering the mechanics of the crossover they inhabited.

Eventually I broke down and realized that I wouldn't be able to get away from this.

And that's where we are now. You can find both of the original posts on Spacebattles, though the second one may contain some spoilers for this story. Most of what's written in it is no longer relevant – the first draft has gone through a _lot _of changes since then – but there are still elements that will be revealed in-story contained in it.

You don't need to have read the Roboutian Heresy to read this story, though knowing the lore of that alternate universe should make it fun to try and guess what is going on. What's different about Shirou in this timeline isn't a great mystery – for _us_, though : the poor bastard is going to have to work hard to figure out what's wrong with him. Knowledge of the Fate universe is much more important, since the bulk of that story will take place there. The needs of the crossover mean that I have had to change a few things about the setting, though those are only minor things, and will only come to light later in the story.

Unlike my other works, this story will be focused on the characters rather than the events surrounding them. It will be something different from anything I have written previously, so I will be grateful for your patience as I stumble with new writing challenges. For some reason, writing a dialogue between two teenagers is more difficult than writing a conclave between Lords of Chaos plotting the destruction of the Imperium.

It is also a crackfic, and NOT canon to the Roboutian Heresy. I cannot stress this enough. Elements of RH-lore revealed in this story _may _be later used in the Times of Endings, but that's something I will decide later. Keeping this story separated from the rest of my work will allow me to take what I write here less seriously. And on that note, let's discuss …

**Pairings**, which are arguably the very foundations of fanfiction writing yet something I myself have never had the occasion to try my hand at. This story is going for a Shirou/Harem pairing. Why ? Because it would be nice to write something nice and fluffy for once, and if takes the combination of the Nasuverse's existential horror with the grim darkness of the far future to bring some light to both settings, then by the living stars, that's what I shall do. I wrote most of this after watching the _Heaven's Feel _anime, so you may understand my desire to create a timeline where things aren't quite that depressing.

Let me tell you, it was _fun _coming up with the members of Shirou's harem, past the obvious ones.

The prologue and the first three chapters of this story are written at the time of publishing. The prologue is in this chapter, and the next three chapters will be published in short order if they haven't already by the time you read this. The publication of following chapters will depend on the reaction to this story – if no one but me is interested, I will _still _write it, but it will probably take a backseat to my other stories. My new year's resolution is, after all, to finish _Warband of the Forsaken Sons _this year, so choices will have to be made.

So … that's it. Thanks to Jaenera Targaryen for beta-reading this, despite her shock that I was actually writing the damn thing. I hope you find this interesting. Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought of it. If you have questions, I will also do my best to answer them.

Oh, and, MalcadorLite ? Entertaining as writing this has been so far, I shall yet have my revenge upon you. It may be delayed, but it will come, in time and in force.

Zahariel out.

* * *

_**December 2nd, 1994 AD – Fuyuki City, Shinto District**_

In what seemed like the end of the world, a child walked through Hell.

Burning buildings and bodies surrounded him. Beneath his feet were scorched earth and broken stones, and above him a crimson sky illuminated by the baleful radiance of a black sun. There were screams, though the child did not see anyone else alive. All he could see where the corpses of the dead, charred black by the flames, burnt almost beyond recognition. The air was thick with smoke, and something else, something that burned the lungs and soul of the boy as he forced himself to keep walking, despite the pain, despite the grief, despite the horror.

This was not something a child could do, however. With every step, part of him was burned away, making him more and more hollow. His name was one of the first thing to go, followed by the names and faces of his family. He forgot who he was, and when those memories were gone, he began to lose emotions as well.

Some of these he abandoned in order to keep going : fear, sadness, horror. He threw them into the dark flames that burned around him, so that they would not overwhelm him and stop him walking. Others were lost as the flames that were not flames spread inside him, consuming parts of him just as they had consumed the bodies of the dead. Of these, hope was the last, burned by the fire that was not fire. Yet still, the child kept going, driven by a determination he could not understand.

In the end, it wasn't enough. The child had lost too much, sacrificed too much of himself to the inferno. His body still responded his commands, but there simply wasn't a will left to drive it any longer. Why keep walking, why keep trying to survive ? Hollowed as he was, he couldn't think of any reason to not simply _let go …_

It was then that something else came, something beyond the flames and the devastation. Something which had been falling for a very long time, through time and space, drawn to the twisted light of this fire. Like the boy, it too was broken, having left much of itself behind as it tumbled through its own purgatory.

It had no flesh, no body, no presence in the material universe, for it was a thing of the spiritual realm. As it came in contact with the flames, it, too, began to burn, and despite the damage it had sustained, it retained more presence of mind than the boy still, and sought to escape the fire.

Seeking the closest place it could hide from the inferno, it burrowed into the boy's hollowed soul, seeping into the cracks of his spirit. In the supernatural heat of the cataclysm, the two damaged essences slowly alloyed together, and the boy took a deep, shuddering breath, twitching in pain as his lungs filled with the scorching air. Slowly, painfully, he forced himself back to his feet. Suddenly, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live, even though he had nothing left to live for.

But despite this sudden desire, in the end, his body was still that of a frail child. The heat and the smoke were too much, and he collapsed again. He crawled, on the ashes and the debris, no thought in his mind except to keep going. His limbs hurt so much, but he would not stop. He forgot about the flames, he forgot about the ruins, he forgot about the corpses. His world was reduced to the patch of broken ground in front of him, to the mechanical motion of pushing himself forward.

Then he felt something touch him, and he was lifted off the ground. He tried to cry out, to reach out to the scorched earth. How could he keep advancing if he couldn't touch the ground ?

His body turned, and he saw that he was held in the arms of a man, wearing a black coat covered in scratches and soot. He was looking at the boy, and as tears ran down his face, he was smiling. And that smile … the boy did not remember, but he felt that he should know … he should know what smiling meant …

Ah. Now he remembered. _Happiness. _That was what smiling meant, right ?

"I've got you," said the man. "Don't worry. You are safe."

He did not understand. He could not imagine what it would feel like, to smile like that. How could someone be so glad, so _happy_, just by having saved someone ? Something burned deep inside him, hotter even than the flames that had all but consumed him, and he wondered :

_Could I smile like that, too ?_

* * *

Time passed. To the boy, whose mind and body had been damaged so badly, it seemed to pass in a succession of flashes, stuttering forward before stopping.

The man who had found him in the flames, Kiritsugu Emiya, brought him to a hospital. The doctors didn't say it out loud, but the boy knew that they didn't expect him to survive. They still tried, though – they did what their duty, their oaths, compelled them to.

Later, the boy would look back upon it, and realize that they had been as desperate as Kiritsugu to save someone from the devastation. They bandaged his wounds and set up an IV drip to sustain him and ease the pain. They did other things, things that his hazy, empty mind did not recognize. But he knew it wasn't going to be enough. He could feel his body falling apart, unable to deal with the damage it had suffered.

He felt … angry. The thought that all he had gone through, that he had survived where so many others had died, only to die on a hospital bed … it angered him. It felt wrong, an affront to all those he had seen die in those flames. This, anger at the injustice of the universe, was the first emotion he felt since he had left all those pieces of himself behind amidst the flames. This wasn't _fair, _he knew. This wasn't _right …_

… But, once again, there was nothing he could do about it.

Time passed again, and he found himself laying on his bed at night, with Kiritsugu standing over him. The man visited him every day, but this time was different. In his hands, there was something golden, something which was turning into fine, shining particles, which sunk into the boy's body. He blinked, and time rushed in again, and it was daylight once more. He wasn't sure if that had actually happened. But he did feel that _something_ had changed.

Whether it had or not, things _did _change after that. Slowly, the boy's perception of time corrected itself. His wounds, too, began to heal. Organs that had been almost cooked by the heat began to recover, and flakes of his skin fell off, revealing red, raw replacement in the places where the flames had touched him directly.

Several weeks after the dream of gold that might not have been a dream, the boy was told by the doctors that they now expected him to make a full recovery. What they did not tell him, but he heard anyway, was that no one else from the center of the cataclysm had survived. He heard the doctors and the nurses whisper of what a miracle his survival was.

This too wasn't fair, thought the boy. He had lost so much, cast away so many parts of himself, and yet in the end, if it hadn't been for that miracle, he would have died anyway. If miracles were real, then why hadn't a miracle come for all those other people who had been in the fire ? Why just him ?

Kiritsugu told the boy that there hadn't been any sign of his family. He told him that, if he wanted, he could adopt him, and continue to take care of him once he got out of the hospital.

The boy accepted. He wanted to remain near Kiritsugu. Perhaps if he did, he would learn more about the miracle that had saved him. More importantly, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he would understand how the man had been able to smile like he had when he had found him.

After completing the required paperwork, Kiritsugu gave the boy a new name, "Shirou". He took his new son home, and the slow, painful process of rehabilitation began.

* * *

"You are a wizard ?" asked Shirou to his father.

The two of them were sitting outside, watching the night sky. They did that often, even though it was getting cold – neither of them were disturbed by the lower temperatures.

"Yes," answered the older man. He had been the one to bring up magic, simply telling Shirou that he knew it straight out of the blue as they were stargazing. "Though the word 'magus' is preferred, and I hardly qualify as one in the first place."

Shirou pondered this new information. It had been six months since Kiritsugu had adopted him, and though he was getting better, it was still painfully obvious, even to himself, that his mental faculties had yet to recover from his ordeal. Slowly, deliberately, he put the pieces together.

"When I was in the hospital, and the doctors thought I was going to die," he said at last. "I woke up one night, and you were putting something golden inside me. Was that magic ?"

Kiritsugu nodded, looking lightly surprised that Shirou remembered it. "They were right : you were going to die. I … didn't want that to happen. I _couldn't _let it happen. So I used my magic to make sure you would survive. That's also why I thought you should know about it. The method I used to help you get back to health may have long-term consequences."

"What _was _that method ? That golden thing … what was it ?"

"It was Avalon, the scabbard of King Arthur. When worn by the King of Knights, it granted its owner agelessness, immunity to all diseases, and a prodigious regeneration. Since you are not King Arthur, it will never work at that level for you, but it is still powerful enough that it could repair the damage you had suffered before I found you."

Shirou spent a long time mulling over what his father had told him. Eventually, he asked :

"Can you teach me magic ?"

"Shirou …" Kiritsugu sighed. Evidently, he had known where that conversation might go. "To be a magus is to walk with death. Every use of magecraft carries the risk of death or injury. I don't even know if I could teach you, but I don't think I should. It will not bring you happiness, that's for sure … And furthermore, most magi … aren't good people. To them, the only thing that matters is the pursuit of knowledge, the discovery of new mysteries – that's how spells are called – and the mastery of the existing ones. They don't care if they hurt or even kill others. And you … magic cost you your parents, Shirou. It was magic that caused the fire, magic that nearly killed you."

Shirou wasn't sure, but he was quite certain this was _not _a conversation a responsible adult would have with a seven-years old (if that was Shirou's age : they couldn't know for certain). But then again, neither he nor Kiritsugu were normal people. He knew that much, at least.

"But you saved me with it," argued Shirou. "That means it can be used for good, right ?"

"I suppose so," Kiritsugu grudgingly admitted. His face took on a wistful expression, as if he were looking at something far, far away, that only he could see. "In the end, it's just a tool. How you use it is up to you. It's just that most people who practice it tend to abandon their morals very quickly."

"Then please, teach me."

"Why are you so insistent ?" sighed Kiritsugu.

"Because … because I want to be like you, dad. I want to save people, just like you did with me !"

Kiritsugu smiled again. But this time, his smile was far more bitter than the first time Shirou had seen him.

"You _don't _want to be like me, kid. Trust me. I wanted to save people, too, when I was your age. But in the end, you can only save so many. There will _always _be those you cannot save, and it will eat at you from the inside … I don't want you to make my mistakes, Shirou."

"Even if you cannot save everyone, you should still try," argued Shirou. "And saving _one _person is still better than none, isn't it ? Otherwise, why did you save me to begin with ?"

Kiritsugu looked shaken for a moment, then he smiled again, more softly this time.

"Fine," he sighed. "You win. I will teach you what I know, for what it's worth."

* * *

Kiritsugu Emiya sat in his garden, watching the stars and knowing he was going to die.

Of course, that knowledge wasn't exactly new to the retired assassin. From the moment he had stumbled away from the Grail, his body and Magic Circuits poisoned by the spiteful curse of the corrupt _thing _that had infected the artefact, he had known his days were numbered. Now, however, he had entered the final stretch of his miserable life.

There were methods that he could have employed to prolong his life : a lifetime of wandering in the dark places of the Moonlit World had left him with plenty of contacts, though he had burned most of the favors he had been owed in the preparations leading to the Grail War. Still, he could have found _someone _who could have bought him a little more time … but at what cost ?

When he had told Shirou that magi weren't nice people, he hadn't been so much understating the truth as outright lying to the boy. There _were _decent people among magi, that was true. But the overwhelming majority of them were somewhere between psychopaths and outright monsters. He should know : his father had been one of the latter category. Somehow, Kiritsugu doubted that any method of countering the Grail's curse wouldn't come with a cost he refused to pay.

He had committed too many sins, killed too many people. If this slow death was his punishment, then he couldn't argue that it was a deserved and just one. It would almost be enough to make him believe in karma, if he hadn't seen the things he had seen.

But if the curse was his punishment for the lives he had taken, then perhaps Shirou was his reward for those he had saved, he sometimes thought to himself. Not that raising Shirou had been easy. Admittedly, Kiritsugu's only experience with parenthood had been Illya (_god _how he missed his daughter), and she had been the daughter of a homunculus created to serve as a Lesser Grail. But even he knew children were bundles of instinct and energy, whose parents had the job of teaching, by example and by lecturing over the course of several years, how to function in society.

However, Shirou's instincts had been lost in the fire, and the kid had had to rebuild the whole model for his behaviour. Where other humans had a selfish core paved over with the laws of civilization, Shirou _was _his ideals. Helping others was his default action in all circumstances, and while it had made for interesting parent-teacher conferences, it worried Kiritsugu. A lot.

He had trained Shirou in magecraft because he had been terrified the boy would have tried it on his own otherwise, a recipe for disaster if ever there was one. Given that the brat had tried to use his own nervous system as an improvised Magic Circuit the first time Kiritsugu had had him perform the most rudimentary form of magecraft, the dying man shuddered to imagine what could have happened then. It was unlikely Shirou would have survived for long before accidentally frying his own brain trying to perform something other magi would have considered the simplest feat of magecraft.

Using a combination of simple spells and one of the few Mystic Codes he had kept from his time as the Magus Killer, Kiritsugu had identified Shirou's Element and Origin after the boy had learned to activate his Magic Circuits properly. To his surprise, the boy was an Incarnation : both Element and Origin were the same, in this case, "Sword".

Considering what was implanted within the boy and what had happened to him, Kiritsugu supposed that wasn't impossible. All that Shirou had been had been melted down, and by placing Avalon within him, Kiritsugu had unintentionally provided a cast for the boy's nature. Perhaps Avalon was also partly responsible for Shirou's behavior, an echo of the scabbard's former owner influencing his development. Kiritsugu could only hope Shirou wouldn't end up like _her._

Being an Incarnation was incredibly rare, and it meant that training Shirou had been even more difficult than Kiritsugu had anticipated. The Magus Killer had never been a master of Magecraft, and what passed for his own mysteries were bastardized versions of the Emiya's bloodline's secrets combined with what he had gleaned from other freelancers during his career. In addition, with his crippled Magic Circuits, he had been unable to demonstrate anything for Shirou to learn from.

As a result, by the standards of the Clocktower, Shirou's abilities as a magus were just short of abysmal. He had a knack for, of all things, structural grasping, and was at a base level of competence at Projection and reinforcement. Shirou's Incarnation status meant that he could Project (though the boy stubbornly kept calling the process "Tracing") bladed objects much more easily than anything else, and to a much greater level of detail. For now, the kid was limited to kitchen knives, but he had already expressed interest in learning how to use real swords.

That wasn't so bad, but it was his iron-clad morals that would forever keep him from being first-rate in the eyes of London's self-styled elite. Shirou would never accept harming anyone else in pursuit of greater mysteries – not when the sole purpose behind him learning Magecraft in the first place was to help other people. Which was perfectly fine as far as Kiritsugu was concerned.

The issue, of course, was that Shirou was still entirely too willing to hurt _himself_ in order to further his mastery of Magecraft. Kiritsugu had lost count of how many times the boy had damaged his body by over-reinforcing it. If not for Avalon granting him the ability to heal from pretty much anything _eventually_, the former Magus Killer was dreadfully certain that his son would have either killed or crippled himself long ago.

Of course, knowing that he could recover from injury faster than other people hadn't helped the boy's willingness to put himself at risk. That regrettable tendency was why Kiritsugu had left Avalon within his son, despite the effects it had had on his development. He had spoken to Shirou at length about the scabbard's properties, explaining to his son that while it could heal him beyond the means of modern medicine, it could do nothing for him if he was dead, and there were definitively limits to its regenerative abilities.

In the last months, he had also forced Shirou to swear to him to be more careful, knowing that he would not be there to take care of his son's messes much longer. Avalon may heal him, but it didn't erase the medical records that showed his injuries or make the doctors forget that he should have taken months to recover. The kid was terrible at hypnosis, although Kiritsugu's lacklustre teaching was probably to blame for that one rather than Shirou's own deficiencies.

He could make someone forget what had happened in the last hour or so and leave them to wake up with a massive headache, but that was about it. They had been forced to halt that training when the last of Kiritsugu's magical abilities had left, since he could no longer erase the memories of the vagrants they had used for training. And by the Root, what a challenge it had been to convince Shirou that was necessary … he had been forced to spend a good chunk of money on help to the homeless to assuage the boy's conscience, even after explaining to him that knowing how to erase memories _would _one day allow him to save someone's life.

Kiritsugu had also taught Shirou enough of Magus culture to make sure that the boy knew that he had to keep away from the Clocktower. He had revealed enough of his own past, keeping the sordid details to himself. Shirou knew that the name of Emiya was infamous in the Moonlit World, and that if he ever walked there, he would have to watch his back for his father's enemies. He had also told him of the inhumane methods far too many of the magi were willing to use : if Shirou's nature as an Incarnation were discovered without someone _ridiculously _high placed to protect him, his fate would be too terrible to contemplate.

Often, looking at Shirou, Kiritsugu felt like he was watching a younger version of himself as he had _wanted _to be. The boy spent every moment not dedicated to chores, his education or his Magecraft training himself in other ways, building his muscles and stamina. Shirou wanted to make sure that, if someone needed help, he could give it to them.

But while the core principles of Kiritsugu and Shirou were the same, the boy could not even conceive of the path the Magus Killer had walked. Despite all that he had endured, despite the horrors he had witnessed, Shirou was too pure, too innocent. Kiritsugu could only hope that life would be kinder to his son than it had been to him, and would not shatter that innocence too cruelly. Every time he saw Shirou risk himself to help someone, he prayed to gods he no longer believed in that his son may be spared of the path he himself had walked to its bitter end.

At least he would die knowing that his son wouldn't repeat his greatest mistake. There would be no more attempts to recreate the Heaven's Feel in Fuyuki, he had made sure of it. The Heaven's Feel, the attempt by some of the greatest magus families to reclaim a lost Sorcery, would be brought to an end, not in an epic confrontation between god-like Servants, not by a Master finally winning the damn thing, but because of the machinations of a dying mercenary with no magic left in his body but the curse killing him. Serve the Einzbern right for stealing his daughter from him and refusing to respond to his warnings about their masterpiece's corruption.

Of course, it was unlikely his daughter would even be alive in fifty years, when the magus families would expect the next Grail War to take place. He had known from the moment Illyasviel had been born that she wouldn't live long, and what the Einzbern had done to her in that accursed castle had only shortened her lifespan …

His gaze came down from the stars as he heard something crack. The tea cup he had been holding was starting to break in his grip as he subconsciously tightened his hands into fists. He forced himself to take a deep breath and relax, ignoring the pain that flared within his lungs at the action. He couldn't save Illya. He had tried, several times, and each of his failures had brought him a little closer to death. Now … he probably wouldn't even survive the flight to Germany.

"Dad ? Is everything okay ?"

Shirou's voice, coming from the kitchen behind him, caught Kiritsugu by surprise. He turned to see his son standing there, looking at him with worried eyes. He must have heard the sound of the cup cracking.

"Yes, everything is fine. Come." Kiritsugu patted the wood next to him. "Sit."

Putting the dish he had finished cleaning into the cupboard, Shirou walked to Kiritsugu's side and sat down, looking at him with curiosity battling worry in his eyes.

"Do you remember where I found you ?"

The boy nodded. Of course he remembered. He would probably never forget what he had seen, what he had experienced. Another sin to add to the list by which the Magus Killer was damned.

"I told you once that the fire was caused by Magecraft. I think … I think it's time I tell you a bit more about what happened."

"There is a ritual that is called Heaven's Feel, but is more commonly known as the Holy Grail War. It takes place in Fuyuki, and pitches seven magi against each other in a death match. Every participant is called a Master, and controls a Servant, a humanoid familiar created from the legendary heroes of the past. The last magus standing will claim the Holy Grail, an artefact that can supposedly grant any wish made upon it … Or at least, that was the idea. When I heard about it, it was like all my prayers had been answered. I thought that, with it, I could change the entire world, make it a place where no one had to suffer, no one had to be unhappy. A place without violence."

For all his issues, Shirou wasn't an idiot. "So … what went wrong ?"

He told him. He didn't go into too much detail – he didn't tell him the names of all the Servants involved, nor the existence of Irisviel or Illya (he could just imagine Shirou storming the gates of the Einzbern Castle and getting slaughtered by homunculi guards). But he told him about the mechanisms of the Grail War, about the battles that had been fought between superhuman Servants, and the destruction they had caused. He told him about how, against the expectations of the high-born magi of the Clocktower, he had managed to claim victory in the War. He told him of the Grail – and, at the end, of the lie it had been.

"The Grail was – _is – _corrupted," he explained. Again, he kept the details to himself – there was no need for Shirou to know about the _thing _that had dwelled within the Grail. The kid had enough nightmare fuel in his own memories, and anyway, he himself had never learned just what that _thing _had been, or how it had ended up in the Grail. "I am not sure whether it would ever have worked as intended, but now, it is only a monkey's paw …"

He stopped, realizing that Shirou had no idea what the expression meant.

"I mean, it will twist any wish made upon it to cause as much destruction and suffering as possible. When it activated at the end of the War, I realized that all that I had done to claim it, all that I had sacrificed in the hope of getting my wish, was in vain. I ordered my Servant to destroy it before it could destroy the world … and that destruction caused the fire in which I found you. Even to this day, the strength of the curse that was unleashed then lingers in Fuyuki Central Park, just as it does within my own body."

Even after five years, it was difficult to keep his voice from breaking as he remembered.

"You did the right thing, dad." He blinked, forcing back tears. Shirou was looking up at him, his hands around Kiritsugu's trembling own.

"How can you say that ?" he choked out. "If I hadn't -"

"If you hadn't been there," said Shirou far too calmly and reasonably for a child his age, "if you hadn't taken part in the War, then it would still have happened, right ?"

He was forced to nod. The Heaven's Feel would have found seven participants regardless of his presence in Fuyuki.

"And if you hadn't been here," pressed Shirou, "someone else would have ended up winning and facing the Grail. If that person was a magus like the ones you described to me, what would they have done ?"

Kiritsugu smiled bitterly. This wasn't a new argument to him. He had known for a long time that, had he not participated in the Grail War, things would likely have ended up much, much worse. The Einzbern would have found another representative : likely a typical magus who wouldn't have cared for the corruption of the Grail, only that it could provide them with a path to the Root.

And the _thing _he had seen would have been capable of such a thing … but the cost would have been astronomical. He very much doubted there would have been anyone left alive on the planet afterwards. Irisviel would still have died, turned into the receptacle for the prana of the Heaven's Feel. Illya … never would have been born at all.

A detestable part of him wondered if that wouldn't have been kinder that the life his daughter had ended up with.

"See ? Because you were there, because you fought for what you believed in, you ended up stopping an even bigger evil from happening."

"Even so," he said, "just because things could have been worse does not absolve me of my crimes. There is _always _a worse scenario, and it is _never _an acceptable excuse."

"So what ? We should just give up ? Do nothing, because anything we do could have bad results ?"

"No, but we all have to live with the guilt and the knowledge that while things may have been worse, they could also have been _better … _and maybe we have to accept that sometimes, no matter what we do, the result may end up the same."

It was something he had come up with in his ruminations on the Grail War. Thinking back, his victory had been all but a miracle. Sure, he had been more prepared to actually _fight _in a war than most of the other participants, his professional methods giving him an edge over those who relied on their mysteries in battles involving Servants who were so far beyond modern Magecraft it may as well not concern them at all. _And _he had had Artoria to help him, even if she had been … _difficult _to work with.

But.

The fact that the city, that the _world _had survived the Fourth Grail War, was nothing short of miraculous, and Kiritsugu had long stopped to believe in miracles, before the possibility of winning the Grail had led him into deceiving himself that his ideals may actually be accomplished, after all.

Why had the Einzbern, known for their pride in simply _growing _the people they needed, called upon a disreputable mercenary to be their champion in the Grail War ?

Why had the one meant to be sacrificed to host the Grail's power developed a mind and heart of her own, falling in love with one of the Masters and reawakening the humanity he had long since cast away ?

Why had Rider's Master been a boy with no idea how to fight in the Grail War, rather than a callous magus who would have been able to compel the Servant's obedience and make full use of his Noble Phantasm ?

Why had the Grail chosen a random serial killer as a Master, resulting in _Blue Beard _of all people being summoned and leading to his first suspicions that not all was well with the Grail ?

Why had Archer held back so much instead of crushing them all with his overpowered Noble Phantasms, claiming the Grail and unleashing its horrors upon the world ?

Why had _he_, the one Master whose pride and ambition were the least likely to be willing to ignore the Grail's corruption and claim the prize no matter the cost, been the one in a position to destroy it ?

There was a painfully obvious answer to those questions, one that had come to Kiritsugu mere months after the end of the Grail War. _Counter Force_. Alaya's instrument, the collective will of Mankind to protect itself by making small changes that resulted in disasters being averted.

He would not – _could _not – tell that to Shirou, though. Knowledge of the Counter Force was a poison. It led to paranoia, to self-doubt and existential crises. Shirou had enough problems without being forced to question whether his own actions were being manipulated by an unknowable entity.

It did haunt him, though. Just how in control of his actions had he really been during the War ?

Shirou's face hardened. Though the boy was far more reasonable than any other child his age Kiritsugu knew, there was steel laying just under the surface. It took a lot to reveal it, but Kiritsugu's defeatist words had been enough.

"I _refuse _to believe that, dad. What we choose to do _matters._ No matter the consequences."

There it was. The one thing that worried the Magus Killer most about his son, during the dark of the sleepless, pain-filled nights. Sometimes, when Shirou discussed his ideals, his determination to save others as he had been saved, Kiritsugu would catch a glimpse of _something _in his son's eyes. He could never identify what it was, but it was there, and it made him very, very worried. Somehow, his instincts screamed at him, whatever it was he saw would play a huge part in whatever future awaited his son.

"Perhaps you are right," he sighed, looking back up at the stars. They shone, just as they had when he and Irisviel had looked at them together for the first time, in the cold gardens of the Einzbern castle. Was there anything up there, he wondered, that cared for their fates ?

He doubted it.

"I have taken steps to ensure that the Grail War can never happen again," he continued. "I have set explosive charges along the ley lines that will detonate in about twenty years, severing the flow of energy necessary for the ritual to take place. They are buried deep enough and are well hidden that no one will be able to find them without knowing where they are, and I haven't told anyone. When the charges explode, the Grail will be cut off from the land, and it will wither and disappear long before anyone notices, taking its corruption along with it.

"Still, if you are in Fuyuki in, say, fifty to sixty years, when the next Grail War is supposed to happen, you better be careful. There _will _be an investigation by the families that set up the Grail War, and they won't be happy when they discover my sabotage. Come to think of it, you should probably make sure not to be anywhere near this town at that time. Having the name 'Emiya' will paint a target on your back. And _don't _think that you need to stay there to make sure that the investigators don't hurt anyone while looking for you, alright ? Unless you are willing to surrender to them – and _you better not, or I swear I will find a way to return from the grave to make you regret it –_ that would only result in a conflict that would cause far more damage than they would if left on their own."

"I understand," answered Shirou, his head bobbing up and down, eyes wide at his father's sudden seriousness. He didn't, and likely never would, but Kiritsugu was fairly certain he would obey. He glanced at the clock, and frowned. It was already past ten o'clock, and Shirou had school tomorrow.

"Go to bed, Shirou."

"Okay." He paused. "Don't stay out too late, alright ? It's getting cold at night."

Kiritsugu absent-mindedly nodded. After Shirou had left, he took another sip from the cracked cup. In the night sky above, the light of distant stars continued to shine, indifferent as ever to the struggles of those who lived on the Earth.

The tea, brewed by Shirou – it had been months since the last time the boy had allowed his father to enter the kitchen – had grown cold. Even so, it still tasted really nice.

* * *

A few days after that conversation between father and son beneath the stars, Kiritsugu died. Shirou found him one morning, sitting in his chair facing the window, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful.

Shirou, for all his many issues, wasn't an idiot. He had known Kiritsugu's health had been deteriorating since the man had adopted him. He had seen the twitches, the trembling hands, the times his father had needed to stop what he was doing and wait for a sudden surge of pain to pass.

He still cried.

The funeral was taken care of by the Emiya's neighbours, the Fujimura family. Shirou knew that his dad had some kind of accord with the Fujimura patriarch, Raiga, who was the leader of the local Yakuza gang. His granddaughter, Taiga, was named as Shirou's guardian in Kiritsugu's will – and, thanks to Raiga pulling some strings, the young, wild woman was actually granted the guardianship without issues despite the fact that no judge in his right mind would have even considered it.

Time passed. Shirou went to school, grew up, continued to practice his Magecraft and train his body. As he grew up, he began to practice his beliefs, helping many people across Fuyuki, though never in as dramatic a fashion as he had been helped by Kiritsugu. In his school and in the town, he grew a reputation as a good, helpful boy, always willing to help others. With the unspoken protection of the Fujimura group, no one dared try to mess with him – at least no more than once.

No one other than Kiritsugu saw whatever it was the Magus Killer had glimpsed into Shirou's eyes that frightened him so much for his son's future …

… But it was still there.


	2. Chapter 1

_Fire.  
__Pain.  
__His skin cracks from the heat.  
__The reek of burned flesh fills his nose.  
__The screams of the dying echo in his skull.  
__In the distance looms a dark tower, radiating its evil upon the ruined land.  
__Is it … laughing ?  
__He forces himself to walk, his tearful eyes taking in vision after vision of horror ...  
_… _The fire fades.  
__The smoke turns into mist, which dissipates to reveal a forest of dark trees that stretch up and up, blocking all sunlight.  
__The pain vanishes from his body, replaced by tension.  
__His heart beats in his chest, lightning-quick.  
__He knows he is not alone ...  
__He feels the hot breath of a monster on his neck, and turns to face it, raising a sword he does not remember drawing -_

* * *

_**November 28th, 2002 AD – Emiya residence**_

Golden eyes snapped open as Shirou woke up, drenched in cold sweat, the image of the beast his dream-self had been about to face already fading from his mind. The reality of his room crashed back into focus, banishing the last remnants of his nightmare clinging to his awareness. For a moment, he remained immobile, taking deep breaths and waiting for his racing heart to slow down. Once he no longer felt on the verge of cardiac arrest, he focused on his tensed muscles and forced them to relax. Only when he knew he wasn't at risk of a nasty cramp did he rise from his futon and begin his morning routine, his mind still trying to make sense of his dream.

After leaving him alone for a long time, the nightmares had returned since Kiritsugu's death, seemingly stronger than ever. At first, there had only been memories of the fire – _ashes and burnt flesh, red sky and a black sun hanging overhead –_ but then the other, even stranger images had started to creep in – _strange shapes darting in the mist, furtive silhouettes hiding in the shadows …_

He had no idea where they came from. As far as he remembered, he had never been in a forest like the one in his nightmares. He had even done some research, and it didn't look like any forest in Japan. The trees weren't of any breed he could find in the books, and the beasts – when he managed to remember anything about them beyond a sense of _wrongness –_ were anatomically impossible. Scales and fur met along random lines across their enormous bodies, and mouths with fangs too large to be able to close flowed with venom … the only thing he could imagine them to be were the ancient Magical Beasts that had roamed over the Earth long ago, in the long-gone Age of Gods.

Even the sword he wielded in those dreams was strange. Where the rest of his nightmares were mercifully vague upon waking, that weapon was burned into his mind with perfect clarity. More research had shown that it was of western make, but again, Shirou had never seen a weapon like that before. So were those dreams simply the product of his imagination, or some lingering memory of his life before the fire that his mind was trying to complete with pieces of his Magecraft-related lore ? The doctors had told him that there was very little chance that he would ever recover his memories from before his adoption.

Of course, the most obvious source for these dreams was Avalon. The scabbard was still implanted inside him, and he had no idea how to remove it, or even if it could be. But the forest of his dreams was unlike any of England, and the sword certainly wasn't Excalibur. Even if it were, how …

"SHIROU !"

The shout drew his attention away from his ruminations. He recognized the voice, and it nearly made him panic as he realized the nightmare had made him rise from bed far later than he thought.

"I am coming, Fuji-nee !" he replied, putting on the last of his clothes. His nightmares could wait : the Tiger of Fuyuki needed to be fed.

In the three years since Kiritsugu had died, the now-fifteen years old Shirou must have cooked breakfast for Taiga Fujimura hundreds of times, to the point that he was confident he could do it in his sleep if needed. His big sister and guardian came to the Emiya residence almost every morning, fully expecting Shirou to treat her to another chief-class breakfast. The teenager put up with it because he liked to cook for other people, because he liked Taiga, and because even he could recognize a cause _that _doomed when he saw one.

"Hello, Fuji-nee," he said as he entered the main room. "Hello, Sakura."

"Good morning, Shirou !"

"Hello, Senpai."

The purple-haired girl standing in the kitchen smiled as she saw him approach.

"Sorry, Senpai," she said in an apologetic tone. "I started without you."

"That's not a problem. It was probably a good idea anyway."

"Are you okay ? Usually, you are ready before I arrive …"

"It's nothing. I just had a nightmare."

She stared at him a bit longer, trying to decide whether he was putting on a strong front or not. Eventually, whatever she saw must have satisfied her, and she turned back to her cooking.

Falling into the familiar routine, the two of them quickly prepared breakfast with the sound of the TV in the background. Taiga had tried to help prepare breakfast once – _once _being the operative word. She hadn't been quite as bad as Kiritsugu, but that was such a low bar to clear as to be meaningless. Shirou had made it clear after that that barring extreme circumstances such as severe illness on his part or the end of the world, Taiga wasn't welcome in _his _kitchen.

Sakura hadn't been good either at the start, but unlike Taiga, she had been willing to learn. After a year, she wasn't at Shirou's level yet, but she could help him, and even cook on her own to Taiga's lofty standards when it came to Emiya cuisine.

The three of them ate together, before Taiga left for her job at the city's high school and Shirou and Sakura began walking together to the middle-school where the two of them were students. They were all going almost to the same place – Homurahara Academy provided education from elementary school to high-school, though in separate buildings – but as a junior assistant teacher, Taiga needed to arrive early to prepare for the day.

The November air was cold, only beginning to warm up under the rays of the sun. The two teenagers walked quietly side by side. In the year since they had first properly met, they had grown comfortable with each other's presence.

Shirou remembered how he had first met Sakura. She had been looking up at him from the floor of a grocery store, staring at him without any emotion while he held the fire extinguisher he had just used to clobber a would-be robber into unconsciousness. The criminal had been on the run after his gang had been crushed by the Fujimura Group and had needed some quick cash. Unfortunately for him, he had chosen to rob the very store where Shirou had been buying food that day.

Seeing Sakura in shock, Shirou had asked her where she lived so that he could escort her home … but the suggestion had only resulted in her showing emotion for the first time – fear. Somehow, he had ended up bringing her home with him, given her some hot tea and called Taiga for help. It had been an … interesting conversation with his guardian, but he had managed to convince her he hadn't had any nefarious intention for the girl sitting in his living room. Taiga had called Sakura's family to inform them of the situation, and after dinner, her grandfather had come to pick her up.

Apparently, Sakura's father, Byakuya Matou, had died not long before, and Sakura was still distraught. Shirou had made sure to tell Sakura that she was welcome in his home whenever she wanted, and the very next day, Sakura had turned up on Shirou's doorstep in the evening, asking if he could teach her to cook. Things had grown from that point until Sakura came to the Emiya residence almost every morning to help cook breakfast, and often in the evenings as well.

Shirou didn't know for sure why the girl chose to spend so much time in his house, but as they reached the gates of Homurahara Academy, he was fairly confident that one of the reasons was waiting for them.

Shinji Matou didn't look happy to see his sister come to school with his friend – but then again, Shinji rarely looked happy, except when he was flirting with a girl – or several. The blue-haired teenager was well known as the school's playboy, seducing and dumping girls after a few weeks – and yet _somehow _there were always more willing to let themselves fall for him. Shirou was baffled by it all, and he could understand if Sakura didn't want to spend much time in her family home. Shinji was always boasting about bringing his latest conquest home … though strangely, his relationships always tended to end not long after. There had even been a few cases of the girl in question leaving Fuyuki altogether, though Shinji's involvement had never been proven.

"Here is your bento, Onii-sama," said Sakura, handing over a wrapped lunch to Shinji. He took it with a scowl before turning away and going inside without saying a single word. Shirou sighed, and at his side, Sakura's shoulders slumped. Her relationship with her brother … wasn't the best. Part of him felt guilty for knowing that it had only gotten worse since Sakura had begun coming to his house – but he would not turn her away, even when Shinji had demanded it of him.

"Hello, Emiya-kun, Sakura-chan," came a feminine voice from behind him. "You shouldn't waste your time on him, you know."

"Hello, Tohsaka," greeted Shirou as he turned back, followed by Sakura's own mumbled greeting. For some reason he had never been able to find out, the purple-haired girl seemed to dislike Shirou's classmate. It couldn't be jealousy : while Rin Tohsaka _was _considered the most beautiful girl in their school according to what Shinji had told him, he didn't think Sakura's own beauty was inferior in any way. Maybe the older girl just rubbed Sakura wrong.

Shirou was always cautious when around Rin Tohsaka. He knew she was a magus, and he was fairly certain she didn't know he was one : like his father had told him, he was very careful to keep his hidden talents secret. Not that Tohsaka was any slouch in that department : the only reason Shirou knew she was a magus was because Kiritsugu had told him that the Tohsaka family were the Second Owners of Fuyuki, the magi responsible for the territory in the eyes of the Mage Association.

Rin Tohsaka didn't resemble the picture of a typical magus that Kiritsugu had painted for him. While not exactly approachable, she was always polite, and was one of their year's top students. He was also fairly certain she _didn't _have a basement full of the corpses of her experiment victims.

"He's just a prat," continued Rin, glaring toward the direction Shinji had left. Her distaste for Shinji had been known across the Academy since she had very publicly rejected his advances. "And you shouldn't waste your time cooking for him if he isn't even going to thank you, Sakura."

"For all his flaws, Shinji is my friend," he intervened, sheepishly, "and Sakura's brother. Please don't say that sort of things about him …"

Rin shook her head, letting a glimmer of frustration enter her voice. "He is a pervert and a playboy," she said, and neither Shirou nor Sakura could deny it. "You shouldn't make excuses for him ..."

"Senpai," Sakura raised her voice, "the bell is about to ring. We need to get to our classrooms ..."

"Ah," realized Shirou, noticing the time. "You are right. Well, see you at lunch, Sakura."

"Yes," replied the younger girl, smiling at him. "Have a nice day, Tohsaka-senpai."

Rin looked between the two of them before sighing and giving up.

"Fine, fine. You are right. Let's get to class."

Following Shinji, the three of them passed through the gate leading to the middle-school section of Homurahara Academy. After they entered the building, Shirou and Sakura parted ways, the latter going to her classroom on the first floor while Shirou followed Rin to the second, taking care to keep enough distance between them that no one would think they were walking together. He had already made that mistake once, and explaining to the girl's rabid fans it had just been a coincidence they had met at the school's entrance wasn't worth the effort. Thankfully, they weren't in the same class, so doing so didn't risk him arriving late.

Reaching the classroom for the class 1-C with only a few moments to spare, Shirou greeted his classmates and sat down, prepared for another day of Japanese education.

* * *

"That is all for today's lesson. I know the week-end is coming up, but you still have class tomorrow, so remember to do all your homework. Issei-kun, if you would ?"

"Yes, sensei," answered Issei Ryuudou, the class representative. "Everyone, stand … bow."

"Emiya-kun. You are going to that bar again ?" asked Issei as Shirou gathered his things.

"It's a _diner_," the redhead replied defensively, "not a bar. And yes, I am."

"You _do_ know our school doesn't allow us to have part-time jobs, right ?" said Issei, pushing his glasses up with a long-suffering look.

"It's not a part-time job," protested Shirou. "I am just helping a friend of my sister move some boxes around. I am not paid or anything."

"That may be so," sighed Issei, "but while you are technically in the clear according to the letter of the rules, you are definitely breaking their spirit. The prohibition of part-time jobs isn't just because of under-age labour laws. It's also so that we can focus on our studies. And whether you are paid or not, you are still spending time there that should be used learning and doing homework … not to mention the fact that, regardless of what you claim, I know for a fact this place also serves alcohol."

"As long as I keep up my grades, I don't see the problem," pointed out Shirou.

Issei sighed again. It was something he often did when talking with Shirou. As the heir of the Hyuudou Temple, Issei was already training to be a monk, and he was fond of saying that dealing Shirou was testing his patience more than any trial his father had set upon him.

But Shirou had a point, and he knew it. While not an academic prodigy, Shirou was still within the top ten percent students of his year. In mathematics, his scores had even surpassed those of Issei himself on a couple occasions … and the only reason the class representative hadn't taken it badly was that Shirou had also beaten his nemesis Rin Tohsaka at the same time. The look of utter shock and disbelief on the girl's face when the test results had been displayed had been more than enough to dispel any discontent on Issei's part. It had also resulted in some of the girl's admirers stupidly thinking that hurting him could earn them her favor … but that wasn't important.

"Just make sure not to go home too late," Issei surrendered. "Like sensei said, just because it's Friday tomorrow is no reason to exhaust yourself."

"Yes, _mom_," replied Shirou, rolling his eyes. "See you tomorrow !"

On the way to the school gates, Shirou met Sakura. He had already told the girl that he was working this evening; the two of them would meet again tomorrow morning. Before leaving, he repeated his promise to teach the girl how to cook Salisbury steak, one of Taiga's favorite foods, over the week-end.

"I will see you tomorrow," he called out before leaving the girl. She nodded and waved back.

Shirou didn't notice that, as soon as he left Sakura's sight, the girl's eyes turned lifeless, even as her face lost all expression. Slowly, mechanically, the girl started her own walk – but, like every time she didn't go to her senpai's home, it would be a long time before she returned to her own 'home'.

* * *

The backdoor of the Copenhagen opened, and Shirou emerged from the bar – no matter what he had told Issei, one couldn't deny that the Copenhagen _was _a bar first and foremost, even if it also served food – and into the twilight. Immediately, he noticed someone waiting in the dark, shadowed alleyway, their back resting against the wall, a cigarette glowing between their lips.

The tall, muscular man with tanned skin and short, spiky hair was dressed in a nice white suit that, for all that it would have looked right at home at any business meeting, was also carefully tailored so as not to hinder movement. It was also cut to hide the small bulge on the man's waist, where he was hiding his concealed weapon. The camouflage was enough to trick a quick glance and allow him to walk in public without the crowd panicking, but Shirou had more than enough experience to recognize it.

Ordinarily, a middle-schooler's reaction to being face-to-face with an armed man in a dark street would have been panic. But Shirou was not an ordinary middle-school student. He also knew this man, and knew that he had nothing in particular to fear from him, nor from any member of the Fujimura Group. There were some perks of being Taiga's little brother and food provider, even if he would still love her without them.

"Good evening, Kamido-san," greeted Shirou with a respectful nod.

"Hey, kiddo," replied the man in a gruff voice. "Taiga-chan told me you were working here, though I have no idea why … You done for tonight ?"

"Yes. Hotaruzuka-san just needed help with the inventory. Is there anything wrong ?"

The man looked down at him with a weary expression for a few seconds, before sighing and handing over a thick envelope.

"There," he said. "It's our thanks for your help last month."

Shirou made no move to take the envelope. "I didn't-"

"You didn't help us because you expected a reward, I know," interrupted the Yakuza. "But cleaning out that warehouse and leaving those punks tied up for us was still a big favor. If we had gone in ourselves, things would have turned ugly real fast. Same if the police had gone in. I don't know how you did it, and I don't want to know, but you prevented a few of our guys from being either injured or killed."

Shirou grimaced. That was true. The Russian mobsters who had taken over the warehouse in Fuyuki's harbor had been using it both as a drug lab and as a fortress. They had known they were on another gang's turf, and they hadn't hesitated to use their weapons. If not for his 'special talents', he wouldn't have made it out in one piece.

Even with those, he had been forced to employ violence to render all twenty-nine men unconscious once stealth had failed him. He hadn't technically breached the rules against revealing Magecraft since he hadn't used any flashy mysteries, nor displayed any abilities that were beyond those reachable by normal people … but had the mobsters known that the masked individual they had been desperately fighting was only fifteen, even they would have thought something unnatural was going on. Thankfully, he was quite tall for his age : even someone like Kamido-san only had a few centimeters on him.

Since the mobsters hadn't seen his face or heard him speak – he would have tried to ask them to surrender, hadn't he known from experience that it was useless – the odds of them realizing they had been beaten up by a teenager using magical powers were so slim as to be negligible. Their own sense of pride would keep them from revealing the details of their defeat, and the Fujimura Group knew better than to discuss their secret trump card where outsiders could hear them, so the chances of the confrontation reaching the ears of the Clocktower were also small.

The main point was that Shirou's intervention had guaranteed nobody had died. Even the Russian mobsters had been delivered to the police alive, if a little roughed up. The Fujimura Group had made sure that there had been plenty of evidence linking them to the warehouse for the policemen to find, while also removing all traces of Shirou's own passage. Nobody had been too badly hurt, and the hard drugs the Russians had planned to introduce to Fuyuki's underground had been seized and destroyed before they could ruin someone's life.

"Regardless of your reasons," Kamido continued, "we owe you for that – _I_ owe you for that, since these fuckers set up shop on the docks and I am responsible for that part of town. How do you think I felt, sending a brat into that den of snakes ? When the boss said you could do it, I thought he had gone senile. When you actually came back and told us it was done, I thought you were lying. So just take the money, kiddo. Give it to charity or something if you don't want it."

Finally relenting, Shirou took the proffered envelope, pocketing it without checking its contents. The gangster sighed at that complete lack of interest, before shaking his head.

"Still, your dad must have been a tough son of a bitch, to raise someone like you. I would have hated to be on his bad side when he was in his prime, that's for sure."

"Ahah …" Shirou laughed nervously. "I still have a long way to go to be my dad's equal."

"Please don't," deadpanned Kamido. "I have heard Fujimura-sama's stories, and I like being able to sleep peacefully at night, thank you very much."

"You are a Yakuza," Shirou pointed out. "I don't think you are supposed to sleep peacefully."

"Tch. Very funny. You are a regular comedian, kiddo. Anyway, I have paid you back now."

Those in the Fujimura Group who knew about Shirou's "work" were all persuaded that Kiritsugu had been some big shot international hitman, who had retired in Fuyuki after adopting Shirou had had trained him to follow in his footsteps. There had been several jokes made at his expense about a movie being made out of that story, and with every seemingly impossible feat Shirou pulled off, Kiritsugu's legend grew, aided by Shirou's insistence that he wasn't at his dad's level yet.

Shirou didn't know what deal his father had made with the Fujimura patriarch, Taiga's grandfather. He suspected that the old man knew about the Moonlit World, but had never raised the issue during their discussions. He had his own deal with the Fujimura Group, separate from him being technically Taiga's ward and actually her main food source.

As long as the Fujimura Group continued being reasonable in its criminal enterprises, he would help them protect their territory from rival gangs. 'Reasonable' meant no civilian deaths, as little public violence as possible, and no drug or human trafficking.

"You gonna stand here all night, kiddo ?" Kamido's voice pulled Shirou out of his recollection. "Isn't tomorrow a school day ? Hurry up and get back home."

He blinked. "You are right. Good night, Kamido-san."

"Yeah, yeah, good night to you too."

* * *

The clock in Shirou's workshop ticked, marking the passage of the eleventh hour. It was getting quite late, but Shirou didn't need much sleep, especially when all that awaited him were more strange dreams. He had found out through trial and error that the more exhausted he was when he went to sleep, the less likely he was to experience another dream. He knew Sakura and Taiga were already worried after he had woken up late this morning : it was better to spend Friday half-exhausted than risking repeating the offence due to another nightmare.

The Emiya workshop was a simple one. According to what Kiritsugu had told him of other Magi, calling it a Workshop at all would result in a quick death sentence for the crime of insulting the sacred precepts of Magecraft. From the outside, it looked like a typical garden shed, built at the back of the estate. A variety of tools and pieces laid around, both thaumaturgic and mechanic in nature. A nondescript rug hid the arcane circle Kiritsugu had drawn there years ago at the dawn of the last Grail War, still perfectly preserved.

This was where Shirou worked on repairing and building mundane tools and machines as well as where he honed his limited magical skills – such as Reinforcement.

Of the few skills he had learned from his father, Reinforcement was by far the most useful in his "extra-curricular activities" for the Fujimura Clan. On the surface, Reinforcement was deceptively simple. By pouring prana into an object, a magus could make that object stronger, more resilient, _better _at performing its intended function. In the field, Shirou could use it to make his clothes able to withstand bullet impacts and bladed weapons – and Avalon could take care of the bashing damage that went through. In addition, filling something with prana beyond its capability would cause it to shatter, which was always a useful trick when he needed to get past an obstacle in a hurry and stealth wasn't an option anymore.

But the true use of Reinforcement came when the son of the Magus Killer used it on himself, filling his human body with prana drawn from his spirit. He was a Sword, after all, and a sword could be tempered. If he could reinforce a length of metal, why would his own body be any different ?

Well, for one thing, his own body was a lot more complicated than any object he had ever practiced Magecraft on in his life. It took medical professionals years of study before they were able to ply their craft, and even they would not claim to know everything about the human body.

For another, if he failed in reinforcing a piece of metal, the worst that could happen was it turning into dust in his hands. If he failed while reinforcing his body …

Even so, he had still learned it. Kiritsugu had been able to teach him to reinforce his bones and the whole of his fists, so that he could punch through metal and take blows without breaking his bones – though the skin and muscle beneath were another story. Even reaching that meager level was easier said than done. The first time he had attempted to reinforce his fist, he had ended up breaking almost every bone in his right hand. It had taken Avalon an entire week to heal the damage, which had made it awkward around the home and at school. Kiritsugu had told Taiga that he had strained his wrist while training alone, and she had thankfully bought it, accepting that all he needed was a few days with a sling instead of dragging him to the hospital, where explaining how such an impossible injury had happened would have been much more difficult.

Since his father's death, Shirou had slowly expanded those lessons, until he could reinforce all of his body's outermost layers. Through years of studying human anatomy and trial and error, he had managed to develop a method that worked every time, as long as his focus didn't slip. That was about as good as it was possible to get : as Kiritsugu had repeatedly told him, to be a magus was to walk with Death.

There were parts of himself that he had never touched, however : his brain, his heart, his lungs – all of his inner organs, really – and, of course, his eyes.

Eyes were fragile, almost ridiculously so. Reinforcing them was _very _dangerous and difficult, Kiritsugu had warned him. The Magus Killer himself had never done it, though he had heard that it was possible – but only among some of the best Enforcers under the control of the Association. And it wasn't as if Shirou could call one of _them _and ask them for their help.

Nonetheless, the potential benefits were enough that Shirou had spent the last month studying and preparing for his first attempt. In theory, reinforced eyes would be able to see clearly in poor light conditions, and even in absolute darkness – if he was willing to have them glow like a lamp and be an obvious target, of course. And that was only the most obvious benefit – he would be able to make out more details from a greater distance, see motions that were too fast for the normal eye … even, if his calculations were correct, see the flow of prana itself.

So, even if the risk to have his eyeballs explode was very real, he was still going to try it.

Shirou checked his preparations one final time. The containment circle was in place. A quick pulse of prana ensured that it was working as intended. A first aid kit laid just outside it, though it was optimistic of him to believe he would be able to use if something went wrong.

He sat cross-legged in the circle, and took several deep breaths. Then …

_Trace, On._

He activated his Magic Circuits, one by one, checking that his od – the only source available within the circle – flowed through each of them correctly. Then, his gaze fixed on the piece of tissue he had brought with him into the circle, he began to reinforce his eyes.

His research had shown him early on that eyes were made up of multiple parts, and he needed to infuse them with prana separately since their capacity was minutely different. First, the optic nerve, which carried the information to the brain. Then the blood vessels and vitreous humor, and finally the cornea, sclera, pupil and lens. He reinforced each individual part in both eyes at once, and as he moved on from one component to the next, part of his focus had to remain on all the ones already done. He could already feel a headache growing, and the spell wasn't even properly active yet.

Without self-hypnosis, even attempting to focus on so many different things at once would have been impossible. But eventually, Shirou finished infusing every part of his eyeballs with prana, and slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes and looked at the floor in front of him.

He had not realized that there was so much details on the floor of the shed. It had always seemed a smooth, uniform surface, but now he could see all the tiny imperfections in the concrete. He could see every strand of fabric in the tissue, and the traces of sweat and dead skin where he had held it. He could see the lines of the containment circle around him, which … glowed slightly ?

He felt a shiver of excitement, which he quickly suppressed before it broke his concentration. The reinforcement had worked, and, it seemed, the process had met his highest expectations. If he could see the minute amount of prana coursing through the Formalcraft array around him, then his calculations must have been correct.

This was different from Structural Grasping, which allowed him to absorb information about whatever he was using the spell on. This was less detailed, but could affect everything in his field of vision at once. It would take a lot of practice before he could use it reliably in combat, but now that he knew it was _possible_, all that was left was the gruelling training and conditioning. As far as Shirou was concerned, the hard part had been done.

He suddenly realized that he could also see a golden glow emanating from his chest, one that he recognized. He had seen it when Kiritsugu had implanted it inside of him. It was the light of Avalon, just like in his memories … But no. Now that he looked at it again, he realized that he had seen that radiance elsewhere, _before _Kiritsugu had put the scabbard inside his body. He could not remember where, but …

_Metal clashing on metal -_

_The scent of ozone in the air -_

_A wall breached -_

_A forest burning -_

_A cacophony of angry screams -_

_Black wings covering his sight -_

Caught in his effort of recollection, Shirou didn't notice he had lost control of his spell. His frustration at being incapable to remember made him pour more and more prana into his eyes without even realizing it. Eventually, just as his father had warned him would happen, it was too much for the fragile tissues to bear.

But _unlike _what Kiritsugu had told Shirou, his eyeballs didn't explode from the overdose of prana – though the result felt just as painful. Instead, without warning, the young magus' eyes suddenly absorbed the magical energy saturating them, draining Shirou's reserves entirely in the time it would have taken him to blink if he had dared do so at this stage.

Around him, the Formalcraft circle shone brightly, the paint he had used to draw it burning itself permanently into the concrete below. Shirou felt the barrier between him and the rest of the world tremble and shatter, and prana flowed into him without his control, passing through his Circuits before vanishing into the seemingly endless pit of his eyes. For several seconds, it was all Shirou could do to maintain the barest of control on his Circuits, keeping them all open so that they weren't burst by the flow of magical energy. Then, finally, it stopped.

To his relief, Shirou could still see – in fact, he could see better than ever. The moonlight passing through the workshop's window seemed to illuminate it like the midday sun, and his own body was nimbed in a faint golden halo as Avalon was activated to begin the slow process of repairing the damage his body had suffered. Looking down at himself, Shirou could see that this damage was extensive : his Circuits had badly overheated, and while they weren't damaged, the flesh around them had been strained to its limits.

Without the protection of the Formalcraft circle, however, his eyes were reflexively Grasping every object in his field of vision, overwhelming his brain with information concerning the age, shape and molecular composition of every object in his workshop. He closed his eyes before his brain broke under the strain, only to be fed a stream of data about the composition of his own eyelids. Still, it was more tolerable.

Slowly, Shirou felt the flow of data diminish and stop as the prana leftover in his eyeballs was consumed by the non-stop Structural Grasping. Carefully, he stood up, opening his eyes to find that he could still see his workshop as if in bright daylight, and half-walked, half-limped toward a table laid against the wall. Using it as support to hold himself up, he looked into the mirror that laid on it, dreading what he would see.

The white of his eyes was criss-crossed by glowing lines, but that radiance was fading away, revealing two perfectly normal eyeballs. Whatever he had accidentally done to himself seemed to be reversible, though his eyes still _felt _different to him. It seemed that, somehow, the excess prana consumed by the reinforcement had permanently altered the structure of his eyes. He remembered Kiritsugu mentioning something about it at some point, but the memory was distant. At least he hadn't turned himself blind or changed his eye color or any other secrecy-endangering change.

As relief flooded him, the teenager wavered. Then the pain he had managed to block thus far finally hit, and he collapsed outright.


	3. Chapter 2

_**November 29th, 2002 AD – Emiya residence**_

"You are an idiot, Shirou. No, you are more than that : you are the king of idiots !"

"Sorry to make you take care of me like this, Fuji-nee" Shirou apologized. He was laying in his futon, a cold compress pressed on his forehead and a blindfold on his eyes, wearing a fresh set of pyjamas Taiga had helped him into, mercifully without making any comment.

"I swear, working yourself to the point that you collapse like that … How am I supposed to face Kiritsugu if you keep doing that kind of thing to yourself, Shirou ?"

"I will be fine, Fuji-nee. It's … not pleasant, I am not gonna lie, but nothing I won't recover from with some rest."

"Of course you would say that. If you aren't better by tomorrow I am calling a doctor."

After his catastrophic experiment last evening, he had barely managed to crawl out of his workshop, lock the gate behind him and make it to his futon before collapsing from the splitting headache, still fully clothed.

Contrary to what he had thought when the glowing in his eyes had dissipated, the effects of his mystery going awry weren't gone yet. He hadn't been able to sleep during the entire night, as every few moments his eyes had suddenly 're-activated', drawing prana from his Circuits by forcefully opening them. He had spent the night laid down, trying to ignore the splitting headache that diminished after every episode, only to get worse when his eyes blazed once more and more information was poured into his brain. These involuntary activations had becoming more spaced, until he had finally been able to sleep for a couple of hours … just in time for Taiga and Sakura to arrive. With his vision apparently permanently enhanced, he hadn't noticed the sun rising.

Taiga had panicked when she had found him laying down, pale and covered in sweat, his forehead burning. He had managed to reassure her, telling his guardian that he had come down with a fever last evening, and if she could please not shout so loudly, that would be very nice.

"You really should take more care of yourself, Senpai" said a gently chiding voice to his side.

"Great. Look at what you have done now, Shirou. You have made Sakura-chan worried !"

He groaned. Taiga knew exactly how to make him feel guilty. Sakura had arrived a bit after his big sister, and had been even more distraught by his sickness. An empty bowl laid next to him : she had cooked him some porridge and, despite his protests, fed it to him herself – with Taiga quietly laughing as she watched. Between the food, the clean clothes, the compress and the blindfold, Shirou felt much better, though he would not be going to school today, that much was clear.

"Sorry, Senpai," Sakura said as she leant over him. "Please bear with the light for a moment. I need to check that there is no problem with your eyes."

She removed the blindfold, and Shirou focused all his will on suppressing his eyes' new ability as she examined them for a few seconds, briefly shining a flashlight into them before nodding in visible relief. She turned toward Taiga to say something – and in that moment, Shirou's control slipped, though only for a fraction of a second. Prana flowed into his eyes, and he …

He _saw _her. _Really _saw her.

Until then, he had never performed Structural Grasping on another human. Never mind the risk of being discovered back when his only mean of doing so was through physical contact, it was an invasion of privacy, a violation of the basic principles of human interaction. But in that moment, he could not control his gaze, and he _saw _Sakura Matou. He _saw _what was inside her. Black, writhing _things _shaped like bloated worms that clung to her insides, burrowing into her flesh, attached to her heart and lungs and … _Magic __C__ircuits _?

The revelation that Sakura was a magus was already shocking enough, but that surprise was nothing compared to the horror Shirou felt as he saw what had been done to his friend. This … he could not even begin to imagine the agony this must have caused her – no, must _still _be causing her. The worms were attached to her flesh by their teeth, biting into her and draining her od to sustain their abominable existence. The prana resulting of this disgusting act was transmitted across the threads of Magecraft that linked all the worms together and expanded beyond Sakura, doubtlessly reaching toward more of their kin in an arcane parody of a true insect hive.

And … this wasn't all. His gaze lowered. As if it wasn't horrible enough already, he could also see the worms – familiars, he could tell now, somehow acting as implanted Circuits for the girl – in Sakura's … in her uterus, and all her reproductive organs. In fact, they were focused there, pulsating with energy as they fed off her body's fluids just as the rest fed off her od. The sight sickened him to his core, and it was all he could do not to throw up.

She turned back toward him, her expression showing nothing of what she was going through, and he forced himself to smile back as she put the blindfold back on, hating himself for the deception. He wanted nothing more than to shout, to ask her who had done this to her ... but he knew, with a cold certainty, that doing so would only doom them both. For among all the questions raised by what his new eyes had revealed to him, there was one more important than any other :

Who ?

Who had done this to her ?

Sakura wouldn't have done this to herself or let it be done willingly, of that much he was certain. Even the greatest magus wouldn't have been able to fake her personality after degenerating to the point where what she had suffered was acceptable. He absolutely refused to believe otherwise, which left one option.

Someone else had done this to her. And this wasn't recent, either. The worms were burrowed too deeply within her for them to have been implanted recently. For better or worse – very much for worse – Sakura had suffered from this abominable condition for years, long before he had met her.

And he had never found out. Some hero of justice, some _friend _he was … No. He crushed the guilt – he couldn't afford it right now. The wrath that replaced it was harder to suppress, and the sudden emotion caused his headache to intensify. But he managed to suppress it as well, though he didn't throw it away, merely stored it for later instead. He had learned some time ago, when fighting a particularly vicious gang, that anger had its uses.

Instead, he focused on what he knew, and what that implied.

Fact one : Sakura Matou was a magus. Fact two : she had been subjected to monstrous experiments on her body and Circuits. Conclusion one : the Matou family was a bloodline of magi. Fact three : since the death of Sakura's father Byakuya, the only other members of the Matou family were Shinji and Zouken. Somehow the thought that Shinji belonged to a Magus family seemed even more impossible than Sakura being the same.

Fact four : regardless of Shinji's moral fiber or lack thereof, there was no way he was the one responsible for Sakura's affliction. He would simply have been too young to perform the _implantation _at the time. Conclusion two : that left Zouken, the Matou patriarch and grandfather of his friends, as the most likely culprit.

Laying back down on his futon, Shirou made his decision. Part of him was aware that it was a rash one, but he couldn't help himself.

Fact five : now that he knew of Sakura's predicament, he could not ignore it. Final conclusion : he would spend the day in bed, focused on recovering from the backlash of his spell. Sakura would be in school, safe from further harm.

Then, once Taiga had left after checking up on him in the evening, he would go to the Matou household, and not leave until, one way or another, he had saved Sakura.

* * *

Miyama Town wasn't the most active of areas after sundown, especially in the late autumn. The streets were empty, every inhabitant having returned to their homes for the night. Those who were spending their Friday evening partying were still out, enjoying their free time in another district. Western-styled mansions were lined up, most of them having been built decades ago by foreign families as they claimed this particular side of Miyama as their own.

Dressed in the dark clothing he wore when on a job for the Fujimura Group, Shirou Emiya stood across the street from the Matou mansion, his eyes fully opened as he stared at the house's many-layered defenses. His new ability was serving him well there : though night had fallen, he could see perfectly well, and by channelling the tiniest amount of his od into his eyes, he could see the magical defenses surrounding the estate.

There were plenty of Bounded Fields surrounding the area, far more than a single magus could have applied over an entire lifetime. This was the work of generations of magi, each working to add to their family's defenses.

_I wish Dad had told me more about the bloodlines of Fuyuki, _he thought.

He knew why Kiritsugu hadn't : he hadn't wanted Shirou to get involved with the Moonlit World at all. He had told him about the Tohsaka, who were one of the three founding families of the Grail War, and the Second Owners for Fuyuki, but nothing more. Given what Shirou now knew about Sakura, it wasn't difficult to understand why his dad hadn't told him about the Matou. Kiritsugu had known his son well, and realized that Shirou wouldn't have been able to stop himself from trying to save Sakura, even if it was from her own family, even if he had very little chance of succeeding.

Shirou wasn't blind to the fact that the odds were against him. He may have spent training his physical abilities and limited Magecraft, but he was still nothing but a third-rate magus, if he even qualified as one given his focus on practical applications over pure research. Even if the Matou family had diminished from its former heights – and it must have, because neither Sakura nor Shinji had ever given out any magical aura that he had been able to detect before literally looking under their skin – the way magus families worked meant that their legacies were often far more dangerous than their individual members.

He took stock of what he had to work with. The backlash to his Circuits and body from the previous evening had mostly healed. His muscles were still a bit sore, but he could ignore it and operate at peak capacity. His od reserves had refilled over the day, thanks to a lot of meditation as he rested his body. A pair of tonfas were attached to his belt, along with a few other surprises, not all of which were strictly legal for a minor to carry on him in a Japanese city. He was so used to reinforcing his current clothes that he could do so in less than a tenth of a second.

On the other side, over a dozen Bounded Fields covered the Matou estate. Most of them were focused on the mansion itself, but several extended all the way to the garden walls. If he tried to force his way through these defenses, he would die. It was as simple as that.

Fortunately, he didn't need to. There were exceptions programmed into the wards so that outsiders could enter when they were invited, and the bulk of the others were intent-based : they would only trigger if the intruder harboured hostile intentions toward the mansion's inhabitants. And while Shirou wasn't foolish enough to believe that he could accomplish his goal without violence, his _intent _was entirely peaceful – indeed, it could be construed as benevolent. He spent several minutes repeating this to himself, hoping that the self-hypnosis would be enough to deceive the wards, fully prepared to die if it wasn't.

Schooling his features into his usual composed and friendly expression, he crossed the street, walked to the door, and rung the doorbell. Then he waited for several minutes, until the door of the house opened, revealing a frowning Shinji.

"Emiya ?" his friend called out. "What are you doing here ? Aren't you supposed to be sick ?"

"I am better," he answered. "Sakura forgot something at home and I came to return it."

"Of course you did, you bloody idiot," sighed Shinji. "Wait a second, I am coming."

The blue-haired teenager walked through the mansion's garden and unlocked the metal gate barring Shirou's passage, sliding it aside and holding out his hand.

"Give it to me and I will – eh, wait !"

The moment the door opened, Shirou moved. Before Shinji could react, he was inside, his right hand was slamming the gate closed behind the two of them, and his left one was around Shinji's throat, holding him aloft with barely any effort.

"Where is Sakura, Shinji ?" he growled.

"W-what the hell, Emiya ?! What are you -"

"I know what was done to her," he continued, and Shinji's sudden pallor instantly damned his former friend in Shirou's eyes. "And so do you, it seems." His left hand tightened around Shinji's throat, not enough to cut off his air supply, but more than enough to hurt. "_Where is she ?"_

"D-downstairs !" the blue-haired teen choked out, eyes wide in schock and terror. "In the basement ! That-that's where Grandfather has … has …"

"His workshop ?"

"W-what ? No, it's … it's her training roo-gah !"

Shirou threw Shinji out of the way and _moved._

Usually, the red-haired teen was very careful with his strength. Even without using reinforcement, years of training had left him far stronger than any teenager his age he knew. He had read enough comic books to know that revealing just how naturally fit he was wasn't a good idea, as it may clue people into his other activities. He did well in gym classes, but not too well, always holding back the full measure of his strength and using the lessons to perfect his precision and control instead.

He wasn't holding back now, however, and Shinji was sent crashing into a bush. Shirou didn't stop to check his hadn't injured the other teen, for he was already moving by the time Shinji slid down to the floor. Sakura took priority over her brother – took priority over everything else.

The Matou mansion was vast, but finding his way wasn't difficult. All he needed to do was follow the stench of Magecraft that had saturated his senses since he crossed the threshold. Every magus worth their salt could perceive It led him to a rusted metallic door, which he forced open with a single kick, revealing a long set of stairs going down into darkness. The scent of rot stopped being metaphorical and became all too real.

_I am coming, Sakura._

The young hero did not notice, as he rushed down the stairs, that the air behind him was rippling with invisible shock waves, and the walls covered in scorch marks where the Bounded Fields had tried, and failed, to target him. Nor did he realize that one of the reasons for Shinji's quick capitulation was that his eyes were blazing golden, while black and crimson lines were running across his face.

Far away, in a library that was sealed to all but a select few, a sigil that had laid dormant for a very long time briefly flickered to life.

* * *

In the Matou Workshop, the only source of light were the black candles scattered along the walls, casting a feeble illumination upon the horrors within. The darkness could be considered a mercy, hiding the full horror of the Workshop, but it did nothing to silence the fleshy, squirming noises. The so-called 'Workshop' was a pit, a hole in the earth filled with all manners of monstrosities birthed by the Matou craft. Enormous insects crawled and buzzed within it, nesting into the alcoves carved into the walls. The greatest part of them were the familiar worms : bloated, repugnant things that pulsated with stolen vitality and prana.

The other insects were subservient to the worms, placed there to help defend them and play their part in their feeding and reproduction cycles. Yet perhaps the most disturbing sound to emanate from that pit of nightmares was the regular breathing of the human girl who laid amidst these abominations. Even as the worms crawled on and in her body, subjecting her to every defilement imaginable in order to feed off her body's secretions, she did not show any outward sign of distress, merely laying down with her eyes closed and her face utterly expressionless.

Standing on the small platform around the Workshop's entrance, looking down at the writhing sea, was the only other human silhouette in the room. In truth, it was no more human than the insectoid monsters, yet it kept up the pretence of humanity for its own purposes. It resembled an old man, so old and thin that his dry skin was stretched across his bones, revealing the shape of his skull, at once disturbingly familiar and alien to other humans.

Colourless eyes looked down upon the girl. No emotion showed in them, only cold observation and calculation. The girl had grown strong since she had come under his influence, taking to the Matou craft like a natural ... which was to be expected, given what had been done to her so that she could _become_ a natural. The changes in her hair and eye colour were but the least of her alterations. She no longer screamed when thrown into the worm pit so that the familiars could feed on her abnormally large prana reserves, or burrow into her flesh to replace those that had died inside her.

Zouken could have made it so that his familiars lived longer. The worm that was nested around Sakura's heart, the one that hosted Zouken's soul, had been inside her since the end of the last Grail War, and remained as strong as ever. He could not make the rest of his pets as long-lived as that particular one, but increasing their lifespan tenfold was still very much within his capabilities, and would only have required the smallest effort on his part. But why would he ? The torment the girl was suffering in the worm pit was part of her training. Like a precious jewel, she had to be carefully shaped so that she could shine with her full potential.

After nine years of training, the girl was almost as much beyond physical pain as he was. But since suffering was part of Zouken's preparations, the old magus had simply adapted his methods. The girl could ignore physical discomfort, but psychological torture was another issue. When Byakuya – another worthless failure – had died, her complete lack of reaction had disturbed Zouken. If the girl had completely walled off her own emotions, then manipulating her would become all but impossible, and he couldn't have that. Thankfully, a solution had presented itself to him mere weeks after the "head" of the Matou family had drunk himself into an early grave.

He had let her befriend that Emiya boy, knowing that she would do anything to hide her true nature from him. The mere suggestion of removing her access to that small happiness she had found was enough to remove any thoughts of rebellion from her.

It was obvious, even to one as removed from humanity as Zouken, that the girl was completely smitten with the Emiya boy. This would be useful when the next Grail War started. There was little doubt in the old magus' mind that the Emiya boy would be chosen as a Master : even if he wasn't related to the Magus Killer by blood, he was still the heir of his legacy. And if he was even half as skilled as Kiritsugu Emiya had been, using his relationship with the girl against him may be Zouken's only chance at winning the Grail.

He had to get his hands on the Grail this time. After three hundred years, he was running out of time : his Magecraft would not be able to hold death at bay another ten years, let alone the fifty that would be required if the Grail's reserves of mana were exhausted. Once, every artificial body constructed from his worm familiars had lasted for years before falling apart, but now he could barely go for a single month before needing to devour someone else to replace it, and the duration continued to shorten with each new one.

Even if he managed to hold on, the Matou were a lost cause. His worthless grandson had no magic circuits, and while the girl could have made a suitable heir, what he had done to her made it impossible for her to continue the bloodline. With no descendant to manipulate into fighting the War for him, Zouken would be forced to either fight himself or deceive an unknown Master, and neither of these options appealed to him. He had witnessed every Grail War, and he knew full well how dangerous they were, even for someone like him.

No, the next Grail War was his best shot at getting the Grail and obtaining true immortality.

Shinji would get a chance to play at being a Master, and when he inevitably failed, all the other Masters would think the Matous had been eliminated from the competition. No one would pay attention to the girl, and it would be their downfall.

Zouken's alterations would allow her to act as a Lesser Grail, absorbing the energies of slain Servants. It would be easy to manipulate the Emiya boy into protecting her for the duration of the conflict – she could defend herself, but it would be better to hide her abilities until the end. Then, once enough of them had perished, he could use her conditioning to trigger the activation of the Greater Grail and bypass the rules of the Heaven's Feel ritual entirely.

The other Masters would be too caught up in the fighting to notice anything wrong until it would be too late, and with immortality at long last his, he would be able to leave Fuyuki and … well, he wasn't sure what he would do afterwards. He had spent so long pursuing eternal life that it was difficult to imagine living without such an all-consuming purpose. But he was sure he would think of something. He would have all eternity to do so, after all.

"Oh ?"

Zouken's glance turned away from Sakura, looking up the stairs beyond the archway that led into the grotesque Workshop. Something like a smile warped his face, the skin contorting with an almost audible noise.

"My, my," he said, in a warm and kind voice he had no right to speak in. "It appears we have a visitor. Were you expecting someone, Sakura ?"

In the worm pit, the girl blinked at the sound of her name. Her mind had been far away, as it always was when she entered this room, until the voice of her grandfather – her tormentor – dragged her back to her immediate surroundings. It was not a pleasant return, Zouken knew.

"N-no," she managed to whisper.

"Really ? Then it seems we have an intruder in our home. Well, don't worry, dear. I will take care of this. You just stay there and focus on your training."

Without waiting for a reply – what else could the girl do in her situation ? – Zouken walked through the archway and into the corridor leading upstairs. He could feel the unwanted visitor ripping through the house's Bounded Fields as if they weren't there. It wasn't that the wards weren't reacting to the intruder's presence : all manner of vicious defences were being triggered, from the benign ones sending away curious teens wanting to explore the spooky Western mansion to those meant to send would-be burglars to sleep so Zouken could feed them to his worms. He could sense the spells firing off … and completely failing to affect their target at all.

Interesting … and a little worrying. The intruder was at the gate leading to the Workshop. Would the greater defenses laid down there – no, never mind. They too had failed to even slow the intruder down. It seemed it would indeed fall to Zouken to deal with this uninvited guest.

The ancient magus was curious now. There weren't many magi left in Fuyuki : the Matou bloodline wasn't the only one to have diminished. Only one Tohsaka remained, and that girl was neither skilled nor violent enough to barge into his home like this … unless she had learned what was happening to her dear estranged sister ? No, she didn't have the strength to ignore his wards like this. The priest at the church, then ? Perhaps. That man certainly despised him enough, but why would he act now ?

Well, he would find out soon enough. Raising his cane, Zouken called upon his bond to the defenses of the house, drawing upon its reserves of prana to power his spell. It had been many, many years since the _true _head of the Matou family had last cast a spell using his own od reserves, for what he had made of himself did not have such reserves to speak of at all. But the knowledge of his Mysteries remained, cultivated and perfected throughout the decades.

Responding to his will, the skeletons that decorated the corridor's walls, remnants of those who had died so that Zouken may live, twitched, before beginning to move. They were weak familiars, but there were a great many of them, and the stairs soon echoed with the sound of dozens of bony feet rushing up to meet the intruder and drag them down before their master.

Maybe Zouken should have been a bit more cautious, but there was very little left in the world that could hurt him. Even if the intruder managed to fight their way past the skeletal horde, the old magus was still far, far from defenceless. To confront a magus in their Workshop was not just the very height of impoliteness : it was also almost certain suicide.

* * *

The further Shirou went down the stairs, the more powerful the stench grew. The very stones reeked of rotting flesh, dried blood, and other stuff he couldn't identify.

The darkness didn't bother him, and he ran at full speed, holding his tonfas in both hands, prana coursing through them and reinforcing the wooden weapons beyond the solidity of steel. The same reinforcement coursed through his limbs, propelling him forward faster and leaving footprints in the concrete stairs.

He saw movement ahead, and raised his weapons without slowing down. His eyes widened as he saw the nature of the obstacle : human skeletons, their bones completely smooth, their empty eye sockets glowing with pinpricks of light. They were clawing their way up the stairs, forming a wall of bones that completely blocked the passage.

_How many of those are there ? How many people died in here ?_

Shirou forced these thoughts away. He couldn't afford to become distracted. He could not save the dead, only the living. In the few seconds before impact, he poured prana into his eyes and measured the thickness of the skeleton wall, finding it to be around three meters. Focusing all of his Reinforcement on his forward side, he _smashed _into the wall of bones, holding his tonfas before his face, the skeletal claws and teeth smashing uselessly against his reinforced clothes.

More skeletons awaited him on the other side, dragging lumps of stone which they swung at him with clumsy strength. Twirling his tonfas, the young magus engaged the undead familiars. His weapons smashed into skulls, shattering them to pieces while he dodged the blows aimed his way. Those few attacks he took were barely felt, and Shirou barely slowed down as he annihilated the skeletons, every blow infused with enough prana to disturb the familiar bond and shatter the mystery animating the bones.

Finally, he reached the bottom of the stairs. He passed through the archway leading into the Workshop … and stopped dead in his tracks, the strength of his sudden stop sending cracks across the platform on which he stood.

In one second, his eyes took in the scene. The pit, the worms – _Sakura_, laying down amidst these horrors – and the one other magus in the room.

"Hoya ? … So it is you, Emiya-kun. I admit that I didn't expect _you _to be the one. These are interesting eyes that you have … very interesting indeed. And these markings … your father never showed them, but then again, he was a poor magus, for all his talent in dealing death."

Despite having been Sakura's friend for over a year, this was only the second time Shirou saw Zouken in person. The only previous time had been when he had made Sakura's acquaintance, and her grandfather had come to the Emiya residence to recover her in person. Shirou hadn't thought anything was strange about that : Zouken was a really old man, and it made sense that he would spend most of his time in his home.

Now, however, looking at Zouken with his new, enhanced vision, he could see what he ... no, what _it_ really was. Whatever Zouken had begun as, there was nothing remotely human about him now. The clothes and skin that covered his body were fake, the product of Magecraft much less offensive than the one that animated his fake flesh.

Shirou had found where was going the prana that the worms embedded within Sakura extracted from her. He had known that it flowed into the hive of the worm familiars, and now he beheld the heart of that repugnant collective.

"Your father was much subtler than you," noted Zouken, his voice sounding exactly like a grandfather chastising a child for failing a school assignment. "His target would rarely even know he was on their trail until they were dead. He would be ashamed of you for rushing into unknown territory like this."

"My father would be ashamed," Shirou acknowledged, glaring at the monster masquerading as an old man. "Ashamed that it took me this long to realize what you had done. Release Sakura. Now. Do this, and I will leave. There will be no need for further violence."

"And then what ?" the ancient magus asked, his tone a mix of mockery and genuine curiosity. "What will you do then, Emiya ? She belongs to the Matou. Her body has been altered by our Magecraft far beyond the possibility of undoing the changes. Whatever you see with those fey eyes of yours will remain for her entire life."

"Even if that were true, I don't care." He knew he was being foolish. He knew that even if he took Sakura away from this horrible place, he didn't have the means to heal her. But he would not –_ could not –_ leave her here. Even if it was foolish, selfish even …

Shirou Emiya wanted to save Sakura. That was all there was to it.

"I am taking her out of here, and that's final," he said, in a voice as cold as the void between the stars and just as inevitable. "You will never hurt her again."

Zouken made a sound like the dried shells of dead bugs being crushed underfoot. It took Shirou several seconds to realize that he was laughing.

"Let us ask Sakura herself what she thinks, shall we ?"

* * *

The writhing of the worms outside and inside her stopped. Slowly, those that weren't already bound to her body withdrew. The pain and degradation ended, leaving her exposed to the Workshop's tepid, foetid air.

Like she did every time she entered the pit, she had shut down her consciousness, waiting for her torture to end. But even so, she knew that this was too soon. Her 'training' should still continue. Curiosity sparked inside her empty mind. What had happened ?

She opened her eyes. Slowly, her vision swam into focus.

She was still down into the worm pit, the stairs leading to the entrance only a few steps from where she laid – but in her state, they might as well have been on the other side of the planet.

Her grandfather was there – and he wasn't alone. Had Shinji come to the pit ? Her brother didn't like this place anymore than she did, and only ever came when their grandfather ordered him to so that he could assist in her 'training'.

But ... no, this wasn't Shinji. Red hair, not blue, and the face ...

That face ... She knew that face. But ...

No. No. No. It couldn't be. Surely God couldn't be so cruel. Sakura's eyes widened, and she cried out without sound as she recognized the one who had broken into her accursed family's Workshop.

Why ?!

Why was he here ?!

He had seen her. Oh god, he had seen her. Now he knew what she really was like. All of her worst fears had come true. Her Senpai, her one island of peace, her one shard of happiness in her accursed existence, had come to this wretched place, and seen her for what she really was – seen the disgusting truth that she hid behind her hollow smile every day …

She screwed her eyes shut. She couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't bear to see the look of disgust in his eyes. It hurt even to imagine it, to think of those kind golden eyes looking at her like that ...

"I told you : I am taking her with me, Zouken. This ... abomination ... ends now."

... What ?

What was her Senpai saying ?

Hope, that most bitter of poison, flickered in her heart, accompanied by renewed dread. Sakura opened her eyes and looked up to see her Senpai, the boy that, in her most secret heart, she allowed herself to admit she loved.

He stood in front of her grandfather, and his face, ordinarily so calm, was full of anger. His eyes were glowing, and there were strange markings of black and red running on his face, but the wrath he felt was on full display.

... Was he angry because of her ? Because of … of what had been done to her ?

_He cares, _she thought. _Even if he knows … he cares. __He -_

_He is going to die._

_Grandfather will kill him._

_He is going to die because of me._

The thought horrified her. She was disgusted with herself for the first rush of elation that had filled her when she had realized that, even after seeing her laying down among the worms, her Senpai still cared for her.

She didn't deserve his care, not when she was tainted, not when he was going to die because of it.

Senpai looked strong. She had always seen him as a kind and gentle boy, but now he looked like a man – like a warrior. Through her connection to the worm familiars, she could sense the prana that radiated from him. He was using some sort of mystery on his entire body – that must be how he had managed to get here in the first place. But against her grandfather … it wouldn't be enough.

Her uncle Kariya had been strong too. He had sacrificed everything to gain strength in the hope of saving her. And it had not been enough. He had died a miserable death, and Sakura had learned that defying Zouken was impossible. And now, her Senpai was doing the exact same thing as her uncle.

"R-run ..." she forced the words out, despite the flare of pain they caused as her body strained against the worms holding her down. "Run, Senpai !"

"Do you hear that, Emiya-kun ? Should you not respect her wishes ?"

"I am not leaving you here," he said, his gaze briefly flickering to her before returning to her grandfather – and her heart broke at the concern in his eyes and the soft tone of his voice.

"This is your last warning, Zouken," he continued, his golden eyes turning again upon her grandfather. "Get these things off her."

"As amusing as it would be to let you take her and watch what would happen ... I think not. You have trespassed into my home, boy, and that is not something that can go unpunished."

The old magus tapped his cane on the floor, and as one, the enormous insects flying in the room stopped in their tracks, turning toward Shirou. An particularly enormous mosquito-shaped creature hovered to Zouken's side, multifaceted eyes aimed at Senpai.

"If you leave now," offered Zouken, "I will let you live. We can talk later to discuss _reparations_ for your lack of manners."

At her grandfather's words, Sakura felt something like despair mixed with hope. She didn't want Senpai to die …

"S-senpai," she called out, she _begged._ "... P-please leave me here. I ... I a-am not worth-"

"Sakura," Shirou said in a voice that was as kind as it was commanding, "don't _ever_ say that. I told you : I am not leaving you here. Do your worst, Zouken."

"Fool," scoffed Zouken, before gesturing with one hand to the familiar at his side : "Kill him."

* * *

As if in slow motion, Shirou saw the familiar fly toward him. He could see the buzzing of its wings, the gleaming of its eyes in the basement's half-light. He saw how it contorted its body mid-flight to bring its stinger to bear. He saw the drops of venom flying off the stabbing appendage as glands contorted in preparation of the attack.

He saw much more, his eyes burning bright as he poured prana into them non-stop. He saw the thickness of the creature's hide, the toxins in its venom. From this, he understood that the stinger would pierce through even his reinforced clothes and skin, and not even Avalon would save him from the poison. In addition, the size of the stinger meant that he would enter the familiar's range before it entered his. Which meant that he had to rely on his speed and reflexes to dodge the glow, and then counter-attack with all his strength – otherwise, he wouldn't be able to get through its hide.

At that moment, a voice came from behind Shirou. So focused had the young man been on the threat before him he had forgotten to pay attention to his back.

"Grandfather ! Emiya is -"

_Shinji. _The fool had followed him. He should have taken the time to knock him unconscious, but he had been too focused on getting Sakura out of here as soon as possible. Sloppy. Too sloppy.

In one flash, his mind processed that new information. He estimated the location of Shinji in regard to himself and to the attacker bearing down on him. He analysed everything he knew of Shinji, weighted it against what he had learned this day, and came to a conclusion. There was no sadness, no anger : only a cold, merciless calculation. And its results were thus :

Shinji Matou didn't deserve to be saved. Not if the cost was risking death, and leaving Sakura here, in the grasp of the monster that played at being her grandfather. And so, Shirou Emiya acted in accordance to that conclusion.

He dodged the blow, the stinger passing mere centimeters from his chest. The grotesque mosquito flew past him at full speed, and its dart plunged into Shinji's chest with a sickening _crunch. _The blue-haired teen's eyes widened in shock and agony, and blood poured from his wound and his mouth as the Magecraft-reinforced venom dissolved his blood vessels.

Less than a second later, Shirou's left tonfa smashed into the creature's head, bursting it apart. Its body slid down, the stinger pulled out of Shinji's chest by gravity.

For a few seconds, all was silent, save for the endless writhing of the worms in the pit and Shinji's failed attempts to breathe and close his wound with trembling hands. His mouth opened as he tried to speak, but only poisoned blood and bile came out. Then, after what Shirou's eyes told him was unspeakable agony, the boy Shirou had believed was his friend collapsed to the ground, dead.

Shirou heard a whimper from the pit, and his icy calmness broke as he realized that Sakura had just seen her brother die before her eyes.

Zouken didn't seem overly perturbed by the death of his grandson. He was looking at the corpse with the same level of annoyance one might direct at a dog that just dirtied the kitchen floor.

"Worthless to the end," the ancient magus muttered, before returning his colourless eyes to Shirou. "I am willing to reconsider my previous offer, Emiya. With my grandson dead, I find myself in need of a … replacement. For all his faults, I still had _some _use for Shinji yet."

"Explain," asked Shirou in a voice utterly devoid of emotion. He had no intention of accepting whatever deal the monster was about to offer, but he could always use additional knowledge of the Matou so-called family.

"I understand that your eyes see much more nowadays, Emiya. That is why you are here : because you saw some of the modifications that were performed upon Sakura. But you do not understand all the consequences of her condition."

Sakura whimpered in protest, but a single gesture from Zouken silenced her, as more worms crawled over her face and blocked her mouth. Shirou's grip on his tonfas tightened, but he did not move – not yet.

"The Matou Crest Worms implanted within Sakura's body act as makeshift Magic Circuits, not just as parasites feeding off her od. In exchange for granting access to Magecraft beyond one's natural capabilities, they sustain themselves by devouring the life-bearing fluids of their host. Long ago, when the method was first designed, that was the blood of the magus … but as you can imagine, the host did not survive for long before being drained dry. The worms within Sakura feed off something different altogether."

"I know," said Shirou, and there was a deep and cold anger in his tone. "They feed off her … sexual excretions."

"Indeed. The worms simulate the part of her brain responsible for feeling pleasure, as well as the corresponding organs, in order to accelerate the production of her nourishment. But the process also causes an unbalance in Sakura's od. In order for her to retain her sanity, she needs to receive prana from an external source so that the disturbance caused by the worms' feeding can be assuaged."

Zouken fixed his dead eyes upon Shirou's burning ones, and continued :

"It was Shinji who was responsible for that part of Sakura's training, by injecting his own od inside her. He may have lacked Magic Circuits of his own, but like every human, he still had od within him. Of course, since he couldn't use Magecraft and using Sakura's own magical talents would have been unviable as a long-term solution, I had to make him employ … alternate methods."

"What 'methods' ?" asked Shirou, feeling a pit of dread form in his stomach as he realized what this explanation was leading to.

"Sexual intercourse," told Zouken, his voice never wavering. "As soon as his body became capable of it, he took part in Sakura's training and stabilization.

"You ... you made Shinji do this to her ?"

"At first. I assure you, he soon became all too willing to assist me. But now, Sakura requires another source of prana to keep her condition from degenerating. You are a capable Magus, with potent Magic Circuits and a strong body. In addition, my granddaughter is fond of you. I believe having you replace Shinji is acceptable for both of us."

Shirou did not answer. Zouken continued :

"If not you, then it will be someone else. It can be anyone, really, so long as they are male and relatively healthy. I understand that her body is considered quite attractive by today's standards. Once the worms get hungry, she won't have a choice. Surely you don't want her to go through this ?"

"... I can't tell if you are trying to anger me, or actually monstrous enough to think I would even consider this," said Shirou at last. "No, Zouken. There will be no negotiation, and certainly no _replacement_. And I am no longer willing to let you live. I am going to kill you and save Sakura."

Zouken smiled. "Will you ?"

Before Shirou could react, the old man's body collapsed in on itself. Both his clothes and skin folded on the ground as a swarm of worms fled from them in all directions, joining with the others in the pit. Behind Sakura, the mass of worms grew, forming a shape that soon grew in definition, until Zouken stood behind his granddaughter, a hand cupping her throat. Sakura cried out at the old magus' touch, and Shirou slowly walked to the edge of the pit, his mind ablaze with possible plans.

"Be careful, boy," warned Zouken. "There is much more at stake here than you comprehend. I can tell you things that your father kept from you – I can tell you about the Einzbern, and the girl he left behind."

"I want nothing from you, monster. You won't kill Sakura," said Shirou, praying that he hadn't misread the situation even more badly than he thought. "You need her. She is your only heir."

Zouken scoffed. "Blind fool. I have no need of heirs. What use is bloodline to one such as I ? And in any case, she won't die by my hand … only you will, if you refuse."

Though his eyes were fixed on Zouken and Sakura, Shirou could see the insect familiars crawling around him, leaving on a small circle of bare concrete around his feet. More of the enormous mosquito creatures were buzzing at the circle's edge, wary of his weapons, but ready to attack at their master's command. He cursed himself for a fool. Zouken hadn't taken Sakura's hostage – he had made him focus his attention on the two of them, so that he wouldn't notice the encirclement until it was too late. Maybe, if he focused his Reinforcement to his utmost limits, he could break through and reach the stairs … but that option wasn't even worth considering.

He would _not _leave Sakura behind. He would _not _fail her.

Never again.

"Senpai …" the girl called out, struggling weakly against her grandfather's deceptively strong grip. "Don't worry about me."

"I promised to save you," whispered Shirou in reply, the sound somehow carrying over the scurrying and scuttling of the insects.

"Please …" She begged him, tears running down her face. How long had it been since she had last cried within that horrid pit, Shirou wondered ? How long since her tears had run dry ? "I don't want you to die because of me. Run, Senpai. Get away …"

Zouken chuckled. "Ah, _love_. How wonderfully naive. What will you do, Emiya ? Accept my offer and live ? Or refuse, and die for nothing ? _Choose._"

Shirou looked at Zouken with his ensorcelled eyes, seeing past the thin disguise and into the abomination beneath. For the first time he could remember, the first time since he had lost his emotions in the fire that had destroyed the child he had once been, as he saw the monster the old magus really was, Shirou felt hatred. The emotion flowed through him, at once ice-cold and burning hot. It felt _right. _It felt … familiar.

He could see how Zouken's withered soul was stretched across his worm familiars, animating the fake human body and controlling the seething mass beneath them all. He could see the worm in Sakura's chest, coiled around her heart like the grotesque parasite that it was, and the link between it and its master. He could see the other foreign elements implanted within the body of his friend, glowing with tainted and unstable prana. Even without the worms, they would kill Sakura eventually, burning her from the inside until nothing but them was left.

"Please, Senpai. Let me die …"

Shirou had never felt so powerless before. Was this it ? All his training, all his preparation, all his efforts to be a hero, and he couldn't even save his friend ? Some champion of justice he was …

_I refuse this._

The thought came unbidden, rising from the depths of his distorted mind. Like a bubble of volatile gas, it rose and rose, until it touched the fires of his hate, and **ignited.**

"**You know nothing of love, Zolgen Makiri," **he said, his voice deep and charged with power. He looked upon the thing that pretended to be an old man with eyes that blazed with a fire that was suddenly dark, and he knew that this was the creature's true name.

He could also see how to kill it.

Zouken flinched back from Shirou, his empty eyes widening. "What … what is this ?"

"**And I will choose my own path," **continued Shirou, ignoring the ancient magus. He opened his hands, letting his tonfas fall on the ground.

_Trace, On._

Every circuit in his body suddenly flared to life, fully opened. Twenty-seven of them, channelling his od through his flesh and soul. It hurt. Oh, how it hurt. It felt as if his muscles were being cut apart by rusted knives, as if his nerve endings were plunged into acid. But that pain was nothing compared to the memory of the fire, and less than nothing next to the idea of failing Sakura again.

_Judging the concept of creation._

From the memories of dreams, he pulled the image of a sword. In his nightmares, he had used that weapon against monsters hundreds of times – and before him stood a monster worse than any of these. A monster deserving of hate, deserving of the blade's judgment.

_Hypothesizing the basic structure._

Blade, hilt, pommel. A standard, deceptively simple shape, shared by countless millions of swords that had been forged during Mankind's brutal history. Except that there were other mechanisms hidden within the sword, devices that he did not understand but could remember with crystal-clear precision.

_Duplicating the composition material._

Chemical structures flashed in his mind's eye, showing the arrangement of atoms forming the elements that had gone into the sword's creation. Minute nerve impulses commanded the power flowing through his circuits, shaping it into replicas of these molecules, forming elements that had never been recorded in any chemistry book.

_Imitating the skill of its making._

Knowledge flowed through his skull, unbidden, its origin beyond him. He saw the forge in which the sword of his dreams had been forged. He felt his hands on the hammer that shaped the metal. He felt the heat of the furnace on the exposed skin of his arms, felt the rush of pride as the weapon was presented to the one to wield it – _a knight in plated armor on his knees, receiving it from his liege's hands …_

_Sympathizing with the experience of its growth._

He saw the first battle, the first time the sword had spilled blood. He saw every battle it had ever been wielded in, all at once. It was too much, too much for him to understand, too much for him to process except in flashes and snapshots. A fortress falling, its defenders unleashing monsters upon the attackers – a labyrinth haunted by spectres of blue and pink – black sands, red blood – crumbling walls and the howl of titans battling above him …

_Reproducing the accumulated years._

Every change, every alteration was reproduced. What the sword had begun as was not what it had stayed. It had changed, just as the one who had wielded it – _who ? – _had changed. The sword was no mere instrument of murder, but a weapon worthy of legend, its deeds echoing through time – _then why had he never found any trace of it in history books ?__ – _and from that legend, it had gained great power.

_Excelling every manufacturing process._

In his mind's eye, Shirou held the image of the sword. It was a perfect replica of the weapon of his dreams. Now all that was left to do was to pull it from his mental world into the real one.

_I name thee, _███████ ████.

His circuits were burning, prana pouring through them in greater quantity than it ever had before, going far beyond what he had previously thought were his limits. Like his body, they burned, but would not break, and power continued to flow, far more than he should have been able to draw from his surroundings. No, this power was coming from inside him – his own od, rather than the mana of the world around him. But this … this was too much. Even as his mind was consumed by anger, the need to save Sakura, and the incredibly complicated process of Tracing, part of Shirou still realized that what he was doing should not be possible. Like Zouken had said, he had a healthy body with great od reserves, but not nearly enough for this. But he did not care, as long as it worked.

And work it did, as suddenly the sword that he had carried in his dreams of that mist-filled forest was in his hands.

It was huge. Too big for human hands, and it looked ridiculously out of place in the teenager's grip. He should barely have been able to lift it, if at all. And yet, not only did it feel incredibly familiar, it was also light as a feather. Prana coursed through his limbs, reinforcing them way beyond anything he had ever attempted before, yet he could not feel any strain on his circuits.

For just as he had recreated the changes the weapon had gone through during its history upon the Projected copy, so too had he, without realizing it, recreated some of the changes its wielder had gone through upon his own body. The black lines that had marked his face now spread all over his body, and the shadows behind him were warped to form the impression of great wings.

The sword swirled around him, cutting through the nearest insects with ease and sending a shockwave that pushed the swarm back with a cacophony of monstrous shrieks. Then, without hesitation, Shirou stepped forward, and landed into the pit. The worms beneath his feet screeched as they burned, unable to withstand his proximity. They fled from him, leaving him standing above a hole in the seething mass of familiars. He did not fall down, however, held aloft by wings he could not see but somehow knew were there.

"**Zolgen," **he said again, raising the sword with both hands. **"You are unforgiven."**

* * *

Zouken was angry. His worthless grandson was dead, his home had been invaded, and his artificial Lesser Grail was displaying a willingness to die far too early for his plans. But his anger paled in comparison to the shock – and yes, the fear – he felt as Shirou Emiya descended into the pit like a vengeful angel of darkness come to deliver retribution in the name of a God that Zouken had stopped believing into more than half a millennia ago.

Where had the Magus Killer found this boy ?! Inhuman bloodlines weren't unheard of in Japan, but he had never heard of any with such an aspect when invoked. Beyond the physical alterations of Emiya, the boy was radiating prana in such quantity his circuits should have been turned to ash, along with his entire body.

He could _feel _the pain of the worms that were closest to the boy, and even his control over them wasn't enough to keep them from instinctively fleeing from him in abject panic. Whatever Emiya had become was something anathema to his Magecraft, and seeing that his mysteries were the only thing anchoring him to the world of the living, this made Zouken very nervous indeed.

And that sword … what the hell was that sword ?! Zouken was no stranger to weapons. He had witnessed every Grail War, seen the weapons used by Servants from all eras of Humanity. That sword superficially resembled many of those, but he could tell it was something different altogether, and not just because of its absurd size. He had sensed anything like what he sensed emanating from that blade – and come to think of it, where the hell had it come from too ?!

"Do you think this change anything, Emiya !?" he shouted – raising his voice for the first time in decades. "No matter how freakish you turn yourself, I am beyond your power to kill, and I hold Sakura's life in my hand ! Maybe I can't kill you, but you _will _submit, or Sakura will _suffer !_"

The teenager cocked his head to the side, seemingly considering Zouken's words. Then his attention focused completely on Sakura.

"**Sakura. Do you trust me ?"**

The girl nodded. Tears ran across her face, and yet she looked upon the creature that the boy she loved had become without fear. Foolishness, but Zouken supposed that after all she had been through, even such a sight could hardly faze her.

"**Then close your eyes … and hold still."**

Zouken felt his last living descendant stop struggling against his grip. Then, faster than he could see through the hundreds of eyes with which he was watching the scene, the Emiya boy _moved_.

Suddenly he was in front of him, towering over Zouken and Sakura both. Zouken opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say – and then Shirou rammed his sword through Sakura's chest. The blade erupted from her back and kept going, impaling Zouken's false body as well.

There was a flash of searing light, and Zouken's perception was filled with agony the likes of which he had never experienced. He sensed the worms implanted within Sakura's flesh cry out as they were obliterated, and barely managed to draw his soul away from the familiar curling next to the girl's heart before it too vanished.

In shock, Zouken relaxed his grip on Sakura. Like a puppet with its strings cut, the girl fell forward, somehow sliding _through _the sword that had skewered her and falling into Shirou's extended left arm. Her naked body showed no wounds, no damage whatsoever.

The same could not be said of Zouken himself. Since he had abandoned his original body for the fake ones constructed by his familiars, the ancient magus had never felt so much pain. Even the slow, constant agony of feeling his current incarnation rot and fall apart was nothing compared to the blazing inferno that emanated from the weapon impaling him. He tried to abandon that body, to flee through his connection to the rest of his familiars' swarm, only to find that his awareness was held in place by whatever Magecraft the blade was imbued with.

"How ?" he gasped, black liquid flowing from his mouth as he spoke.

"**This blade was meant to kill monsters," **replied the _thing _that had invaded his home. **"And despite all that you did to her, Sakura never gave in into your darkness."**

"What … are you ?"

"**Her friend."**

"Her _friend _? Is that it ?! Is that the only reason why a creature such as you would do such a thing ?!"

"**Yes. ****What other reason could I need ?****"** answered Shirou, before setting Zouken's soul ablaze.

Zouken screamed through ten thousand mouths as he died. The Matou Workshop was filled with the discordant sound of countless insects screeching as they burned from the inside, the Magic Circuits within them igniting as the wrath of Shirou Emiya circulated through the very links that had kept the abominations alive. Outside the Matou household, the familiars Zouken had scattered across Fuyuki as spies and backups also screeched, but the sound was much lesser, picked up only by cats and dogs – who in turn suddenly began to cry out, filling the night with panicked howls and distressed meows.

Zouken burned, feeling every part of his ancient, rotting soul being consumed. Centuries of memories turned to ash and less than ash. Such was the pain of this most total of annihilation, he did not have any last thoughts, any final moment of realization – only torment, and then the void.

And so it was that Zolgen Makiri, one of the three Magi who had helped build the mechanism of the Holy Grail War in centuries past, died after clinging to life for far too long. Alone, despised by all who knew of his ongoing existence, with his bloodline extinct and the last heir of his Magecraft purified of all that he had done to her.

* * *

Still holding Sakura close to him, Shirou fell on the mass of dried-up insect corpses, trying not to hurl at the feel and stench of them.

He had no idea what had just happened. His brain had felt – _still _felt – like it was on fire, and everything he had done was clear in his memory. But he could remember neither _how_ or _why _he had done it. It had felt as if he suddenly knew what to do, but that knowledge had vanished along with the transformation. Third-rate magus as he was, Shirou still knew that this was a very bad sign.

Possible explanations flashed in his mind, but he was simply too ignorant to know whether any of them were plausible. Inhuman ancestry somewhere in his blood family tree, a curse leftover from the Grail Fire, an enemy of Zouken using him as a puppet without his knowledge … There was no way to know. But that was not to say that the experience, whatever it had been, had left him completely in the dark.

He understood now. He wasn't a hero. Not just because it had taken him so long to find out what had happened to Sakura – that just meant he was a _poor _hero.

But no hero would have risked Sakura's life like this. A hero would have found an other way to save her, without stabbing her and relying on an unknown weapon's properties to leave her unharmed. A hero would have saved his friend without Shinji dying, maybe even without _Zouken _dying. At the very least, a hero would regret their deaths, would have hesitated to let his friend die.

But … he didn't. His friendship with Shinji had turned to dust the moment he had learned that the boy had taken part in Sakura's torture, and try as he might, he could find no possible justification for letting a monster like Zouken live. He would do it all again to save Sakura, and he knew that this wasn't what a hero would do. A hero was supposed to save everyone, not kill those who stood against him to save only those who were precious to him.

Most of all, though, a hero wouldn't call upon unknown and dark powers to annihilate his foe.

And yet, again, Shirou did not regret what he had done. He had chosen to come to the Matou estate, and would bear the consequences of that choice – whatever they might be.

He looked at Sakura as she stirred in his arms, and her face reminded him of _why _he had chosen as he had.

"Senpai ?" she whispered, her eyes half-opened.

"I am here, Sakura," he replied, cupping her face in his free hand to keep her looking straight at him. She didn't need to see what had happened in the room. "Don't worry. It's safe now. Everything is going to be okay."

"The worms …" she spaced out, as if trying to make sense of something she couldn't comprehend. "… they don't hurt anymore ..."

He felt his heart break all over again. _Of course _the parasites had hurt her. She had been hurting the entire time he had known her, and he had never noticed.

"They are gone. I … removed them. You will never go through something like that again."

"But … Grandfather ..."

"I removed him too. Rest, Sakura. I am bringing you home."

"H-home … ?"

"Yes. You are safe now. I promise."

She smiled, and though it was different, the smile reminded Shirou of Kiritsugu's, when he had first seen the man amidst the ruins and ashes. It was so … _relieved. _So … _happy._

He knew he was smiling too, seeing his reflection in Sakura's eyes before they closed, and she fell back into exhausted unconsciousness. He checked her pulse, finding it slow but regular. Picking her up, he slowly made his way out of the pit, climbing up the steps Sakura had walked down countless times before as she descended into her personal Hell. He passed by Shinji's corpse, laying where it had fallen. The blue-haired teenager's eyes were wide open, his face contorted into an expression of agony reflecting his last moments.

For several seconds, Shirou looked at the body of his former friend, trying to process how he was supposed to feel. It wasn't difficult to imagine Shinji's story. Born without Magic Circuits to a magus bloodline, he must have always resented Sakura for being chosen as the heir over him. Such insecurities would have made him easy prey for Zouken's manipulations.

He didn't hate Shinji, not like he had hated Zouken in the final moments of their confrontation. He … pitied the boy. He mourned the death of who he could have been.

But he still did not regret that he had died, not if his death had earned Sakura's salvation. Perhaps that was another sign that he wasn't a hero.

At the archway, Shirou looked back at the mass of dried-up insects corpses. Simply leaving them here felt wrong, and dangerous. He took a canister from his belt, turned the dial on it all the way and poured some prana into it. Then, as he carried Sakura past the archway and up the stairs, he tossed the delayed, Reinforced incendiary grenade into the pit.

Two minutes later, the incendiary activated, and Shirou sped up his climb to avoid subjecting Sakura to the fumes rising from the 'Workshop'.

On his way out, Shirou tore a curtain and wrapped it around Sakura's naked body, Reinforcing the fabric so that it would keep her from freezing. He didn't know where her room was, and didn't want to risk exploring the mansion, even with its monsters dead. The curtain would do for now. There were clothes at his home that she could use, leftover from when Fuji-nee had slept over, and they could see about procuring more later.

Shirou wasn't sure when he had decided that Sakura would live with him after this. Truth be told, he hadn't had much of a plan when coming to the Matou residence beyond "save Sakura". But he _had _just caused the death of her entire direct family … so he had to take care of her. She was his responsibility now.

And he would keep his promise to her. He _would _keep her safe.

* * *

Carrying Sakura through the streets was easy at first. It was late enough that there were almost no people out, and eluding those who were there wasn't difficult, even while carrying the young girl on his back. Thanks to his training, her weight barely registered, even when he let go of his Reinforcement spell and relied purely on physical strength.

He was halfway to his home, near the undefined border when the Western-styled houses were replaced by the more Japanese-styled ones, when he heard the sirens. Turning back, he blinked as he saw the smoke rising from whence he had come. With his enhanced vision, he could see that it was coming from the Matou household.

Had he reinforced the incendiary too much ? No, even if he had, the fire it started wouldn't have been able to spread up the concrete stairs without anything to burn on the way.

Maybe ... the web of Zouken's abominable existence had spread across all the insects on the property and beyond. The Bounded Fields that surrounded the estate had drawn upon the pit for energy. Maybe, when he had destroyed Zouken, he had also broken the Bounded Fields, triggering some sort of last-ditch defense to keep the secrets of the Matou bloodline from falling into the hands of their attackers ? Given what Kiritsugu had told him of Magus mentality, it made sense that would be the case.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it. He had hoped that he would have a bit of time to cover his tracks before his actions of the night were revealed, but it looked like he would have to move quickly.

For now, though, getting Sakura to safety was the top priority. And with the firemen – and no doubt the police – on their way, he had to be even more careful and fast. Despite the overtaxing of his Circuits, he forced them open once again, ignoring the pain and Reinforcing his legs to move quicker. Miyama Town wasn't the area of Fuyuki he was the most familiar with – there had never been any operation that had required the Fujimura Clan to ask for his help – but he had still taken the time to memorize its layout. Running in the side-streets between houses, it took him less than half an hour to make it back to his home.

The meagre Bounded Field that surrounded the Emiya residence was nothing compared to those that had protected the Matou estate. Shirou was aware that his training in that subject was simply pathetic : it was all he could do to maintain the field Kiritsugu had set up before the Fourth War and the crippling of his Circuits. And the Magus Killer had been much more focused on how to _subvert _Bounded Fields than on how to use them himself. This one kept loud noises inside, subtly influenced unwanted people from trying to force their way in, and – most importantly, where Kiritsugu had been concerned – it warned the magus it was attuned to whenever an active prana source entered it. Only _active _ones, unfortunately – it might have alerted Shirou to Sakura's predicament soon otherwise.

_Maybe Sakura knows how to build a better one, _idly thought Shirou as he carried Sakura inside.

There were plenty of spare rooms in the Emiya household, all of which Shirou kept clean. It had been a challenge in the first years – even before Kiritsugu had died, the old man hadn't exactly been adept at housework, though he had somehow still managed to be better than Fuji-nee. Lately, Sakura had started to help him … and now he felt horrible for trying to convince her that she shouldn't waste her week-ends helping him, when it was obvious in hindsight that she had been trying to get as much time away from Zouken as possible.

He _would _make it up to her. For now, that meant getting her to a comfortable bed in one of the Western-styled bedrooms. Gently, he laid her down on the bed, removing the curtain he had wrapped around her and replacing it with a spare bathrobe – not the best sleepwear, but still better than the piece of fabric. He drew the covers over her sleeping form, careful not to disturb her.

Once done, Shirou looked at Sakura again, flashing his eyes to Grasp her entire body. Somehow, he felt that they were _way _past the point of him bothering with respecting her privacy. All the worms were gone, but the marks of their teeth on her muscles and organs were still there. Thankfully, whatever had destroyed the familiars had done so in a manner that had sealed the puncture wounds and prevented Sakura from bleeding internally to death.

_Maybe _modern medicine could help. As disgusting as it was, maybe there existed some natural parasites similar enough to the worm familiars that a treatment existed that could be adapted. The natural world was full of as many horrors as it was wonders, after all. But how could he explain the disappearance of the "parasites" without any trace of what should have been a very extensive surgical operation ? No, he couldn't go to the hospital for this.

Wait … Didn't he have something that could heal injuries, no matter how deep or extensive ?

If Shirou had been in his normal state of mind, he would never have attempted something like this without extensive preparations, especially with how exhausted he already was. But in his half-delirium, and with the guilt of having let Sakura suffer alone for so long weighing on him, he didn't pause to consider the dangers.

He held up a hand and, with one last push of his Magic Circuits, summoned the object which had healed his wounds nine years ago, the holy relic which dwelled within him.

Avalon, the scabbard of King Arthur, appeared in his palm, shining faintly in the moonlight seeping in from the window. It was the first time Shirou saw it clearly, and it was as beautiful in physical form as the light he remembered from when Kiritsugu had put it inside him.

It wasn't the true scabbard, but a Traced copy, and had Shirou been more awake he would have realized how incredible a Magecraft feat Tracing a Noble Phantasm was. Especially one like Avalon, forged not by human hands but by the mysterious Fae, of which the only thing Shirou knew was that they were almost entirely alien to Humanity, both in their mentality and their approach to Magecraft.

But instead, he simply focused on the replica in his hand. With the insight granted to him by Tracing it, he now understood how his father had been able to implant it within him. And so, it was the easiest thing in the world to dissolve the Traced Avalon into golden motes and direct them down into Sakura's body.

A quick scan of her body revealed that her od was already reacting to the foreign object. Even in her exhausted state, Sakura's prana reserves were massive, and the Noble Phantasm was drawing upon them as it began to repair her body. Shirou doubted the Traced artefact would last long enough to undo all the accumulated damage Sakura had suffered, but it was better than nothing.

A wave of relief and exhaustion struck him, and he sat next to Sakura's bed. Within seconds, he had fallen asleep, his head resting on the bed, still holding Sakura's hand.

* * *

**AN :** And so Shinji and Zouken die, to the mournful cries of ... absolutely no one, I would wager. Can you tell that I wrote this after watching the _Heaven's Feel _movies ? Yeah, I wasn't feeling particularly charitable to either of the Matou males. If any of you are concerned that I am removing one of FSN's main villains so early, don't worry - if there is one area in which I am confident as a writer, it's creating terrifying villains. There will be plenty of adversity for our heroes to face later on in the story.

By that point, I expect most of you will have caught up to the hints of Shirou's condition, especially if you have read the Roboutian Heresy. That's fine - I am planning this story so that that knowledge doesn't detract from enjoying it. Of course, I may very well mess things up ... We shall see.

One more chapter before we reach the end of what's currently written.

Zahariel out.


	4. Chapter 3

_A corpse-star burns overhead as he walks on dead stone.  
__There is a figure at his side, guiding him out of this labyrinth of writhing horrors contained within glass tanks. His time among these monstrosities may be coming to an end, but the things he saw will mark him forever.  
__He hears a voice, and it takes him a moment to realize that it is his own, even if the words aren't.  
_"_There is one last thing we must discuss. You were given a thousand subjects culled from dozens of Households, yet you only have _one _success to show for it. Why ?"  
_"_Only one _female _one. The rate of conversion for males is much higher. But … yes. She was the only successfully subject. The others … did not survive the process."  
_"_This is not acceptable. The final stage of the war to come will require a great deal of firepower for us to breach the final walls. We cannot afford to have half the candidates wasted."  
_"_I know. We have plans to use her to create more viable candidates. She is very strong – perhaps _too _strong in some ways."  
_"_How so ?"  
_"_She sings to the others from within her confinement : we think it grants them some comfort. We have tolerated it for now, but it will end when we reinforce her containment before we begin the next phase. I swear to you that by the time you and our lord return, we will have succeeded."  
_"… _I see. Very well, I shall trust you to do as you have promised. But one last thing, out of curiosity. Names have power, and if she is to serve as you intend, then her name should be chosen very carefully. What do you call her ?"  
_"_Altani."_

* * *

_**November 30th, 2002 AD – Emiya residence**_

For the first time since she had lost her innocence to the Matou Magecraft, Sakura woke up without feeling pain or discomfort anywhere in her body. There were no small teeth gnawing at her bones, no slimy feelers tightening around her organs, no unnatural heat driving her ever so slowly to abhorrent madness. She awoke confused, uncertain of what was happening. After so many years of emerging from the nightmares that haunted her every night only to be confronted once more with the horror of her waking existence, this new development left her groggy and uncertain.

Her eyes opened slowly, revealing to her a ceiling that wasn't her room's. She had spent countless hours staring at it, in that fake room she had been given to hold the possessions she needed to maintain the masquerade of normal life outside the Matou estate. A diffuse light came through the curtains covering the window, giving just enough illumination for her to finally recognize the room. This was one of the Emiya residence's guest rooms, one of those which hadn't been used since her Senpai had inherited the house. What was she doing here ? The last thing she could remember was …

She froze as the memories rushed in. The basement – the worms – Grandfather – Senpai – Nii-sama … _Nii-sama._

Shinji … her brother was dead. He had died because Grandfather had tried to kill Senpai – Senpai had come to save her – it was her fault that Shinji was dead – _her brother had died because of her –_

As guilt and confusion threatened to overwhelm her, she suddenly realized someone was holding her left hand. Already halfway to panicking, she turned and she saw a red-haired young man – and just like that, the panic receded, and the self-accusing voice went silent. _He _was there.

Her Senpai was sitting on a chair next to her. His head laid on the bed, and he was asleep – still fully clothed. She blushed at his proximity and contact, but didn't move away. She breathed deeply, slowly, trying to calm down. More memories returned to her. She remembered Shirou's eyes burning bright, and the sudden transformation that had fallen upon him when Grandfather had tried to threaten him into doing the old monster's bidding. She remembered the sword that had pierced her, too. But when she looked at her chest under the bathrobe she wore – her face suddenly flushed as she realized he had changed her while she was unconscious – she saw no mark or scar.

Yet she remembered it clearly now – that look on Senpai's face as he asked her if she trusted him, and the burning sensation as her body was filled with an energy unlike any she had ever tasted. She remembered the words they had exchanged, just before she had fallen unconscious.

_The worms are gone_, Senpai had said. And … she truly couldn't feel them anymore. She had thought them to be impossible to remove – Zouken had explained their nature to her in great details when she had begun her "training", in order to crush any semblance of hope she might have had left after being abandoned by her birth family. But they _were _gone, and she knew enough about her condition to know that that meant Zouken was gone too.

The mere thought that her grandfather – her tormentor – was dead sent Sakura's mind reeling. It had been years since she had stopped wishing Zouken dead, since he had broken her to the point where she had stopped believing he _could _die. Just like removing the worms, her grandfather _dying _had seemed impossible to her. She had to think that way, because to believe otherwise would have let her cling to hope – and in the worm pit, hope was the cruellest of poisons.

But … her Senpai had done it. He had done both of these impossible things. He …

_He saved me_.

The _how _didn't matter to Sakura nearly as much as the _why. _Why ? Why had he done such a thing ? Why hadn't he turned away from her when he had realized what she was – when he had beheld her ugly, defiled, lewd body ?

Could it be that he, too …

Sakura looked at her Senpai's face more closely, and startled. Shirou was twitching in his sleep, and his face was contorted in a distressed grimace. Was he ... was he having a nightmare ? It felt strange to imagine her Senpai suffering from something as mundane as a nightmare, after he had confronted Grandfather in the heart of his power and emerged victorious.

"Senpai," she whispered, reaching out to shake his shoulder gently. It didn't work, and he looked like he was really in pain, so she shook him harder and called out louder. "Senpai !"

He jerked awake, his golden eyes snapping open. His mouth opened as well, as if he were about to speak – but it closed, and he blinked, the words he had brought back from his dreams visibly slipping from his grasp. His gaze fell upon her, and the sharpness in his expression vanished, replaced by concern.

"Good morning, Sakura." His voice was just as she remembered it – soft and kind, not at all like the commandeering and coldly furious tone he had employed with Grandfather. "How are you feeling ?"

How long had it been since she had been asked that question by someone she trusted and to whom she felt no need to lie ? How long had it been since the answer hadn't been 'horrible' ?

"I am feeling … good. Better than ever."

He looked at her, and his eyes flashed before he sighed, his shoulders sagging in visible relief.

"It looks like the magic I used to heal the leftover damage worked. Are you hurting anywhere ?"

She shook her head, unsure of what he had just done but trusting his judgment. "I feel a bit sore. And …" Her stomach grumbled. She blushed, and Senpai laughed gently, before helping her get up. When he was sure she could stand on her own, he released his hold on her.

"Come on. I am hungry too. Take a bath : I will prepare us some breakfast."

She was about to protest, to say that she would help him, but he raised his hand pre-emptively.

"Sakura, you have just been through a traumatic event. Your home and your family are gone, and you have been rescued from something horrible ..." He trailed off, gazing into the distance, and blinked. "Huh. So _that's _how Dad felt. Anyway, I am not letting you help with the chores until you have recovered, and that's final."

She wanted to insist, but a treacherously weak part of herself wanted to indulge in his care – wanted to let him spoil her, if only a little bit. And so she nodded.

* * *

By the time Sakura emerged from the bathroom, clad in a fresh bathrobe, Shirou had finished cooking a simple but plentiful breakfast. Both teenagers were hungry from their efforts of the last night. Shirou had gone to the Matou residence after eating only a little rice to ensure hunger didn't distract him, and Sakura never ate when she was going to the pit. In addition, the copy of Avalon had drawn upon the young girl's reserves to heal her.

All of that combined made the two of them eat like famished lions. Shirou kept an eye on Sakura as they ate, and the girl secretly revelled in being the focus of his attention in such a way.

"There are several things we need to discuss," Shirou began as he put down his empty bowl. He looked silently at Sakura for a few seconds, before forcing himself to continue : "First … I am sorry. For many reasons. This whole situation … I should have handled it much better. I should have seen what was happened to you earlier. I should have rescued you from _that _sooner."

"That's not true," Sakura protested. "You saved me, Senpai. I didn't – I kept the truth hidden from you all this time. I _lied _to you …"

"If you did, it was because you were scared," he cut her off gently. "Scared of what would happen to you or to me. And I should still have seen something was wrong. Looking back, it's so obvious … I _knew _there was something weird going on with your family, but I never suspected it was something Magecraft-related."

He sighed. "And even after that, I still failed you. Even if I saved you from Zouken, I should have found a way to do it without … without Shinji dying. Even if he was … who he was, even after all that he did to you, I know he was your brother."

"Nii-sama … Nii-sama used to be kind to me," said Sakura softly. "When I was little. Before Grandfather told him he could never become a magus himself, because he didn't have Magic Circuits. It was after that he started to take out his anger on me. But before that … before that, I think he did love me as his little sister, even if I wasn't really …"

"And he died because of me," finished Shirou. "I am sorry, Sakura."

There was a moment of silence as the two of them grieved for the boy who had been friend to one of them and brother to the other. It was Sakura who broke the silence first :

"I didn't know you were a magus, Senpai."

"I am not. Not really, not by the definition of the Association. A magus is someone who researches Magecraft in order to reach the Root, either for themselves or by helping their family advance their research so that their descendants will succeed one day. Like my dad, I am a magic-user : I use what Magecraft I know for my own goals, and my research is geared toward practical applications, not furthering my family's progress toward some elusive transcendence. Even if your 'education' wasn't typical of Magi families, you probably know more about Magecraft than me."

"But … you are the heir of the Emiya family," she protested. "And you can do incredible things. I didn't think anyone could kill Grandfather, or remove the worms without killing me. What you did yesterday … if you aren't a great magus, then you must have a powerful Crest then ?"

"Oh no," he waved off the idea. "I don't have anything like that. Dad adopted me, and if he had a Magic Crest, he never passed it on to me."

Sakura froze at the words. He … he had been adopted ? She hadn't known that. She had known his father was dead, and that Fujimura-sensei was his guardian, but that was all.

_He is like me, _came the thought.

"How did you do it then ?" she forced herself to continue. There was no academic curiosity in her words – she was even less of a Magus than her Senpai in that way, for to her, Magecraft had only ever been a source of torment. But the answer was part of her Senpai, and so she wanted to know.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I had never done anything like that before. When Zouken took you hostage ... No, even before that. Thinking back on it, I shouldn't even have made it to the basement without the Bounded Fields stopping me." He looked down at his hands, strong and calloused, and frowned. "I have theories, but they are just that, and not even good ones. I will try to look into it in the future, of course. For now … I am just glad that whatever happened did happen. Whatever that power was, wherever it came from, I couldn't have saved you without it."

"I am glad too, Senpai. You … You looked like an angel," the young girl whispered as she remembered the wings she had seen emerging from her Senpai's back, cloaking him in shadows as he looked at her Zouken with burning eyes.

Shirou scoffed. "Sakura, whatever that power was, I am confident it didn't come from anything we would call an angel. I don't really remember what I was thinking at the time, but I do remember that I was feeling a _lot _of anger and hatred toward Zouken."

Sakura didn't know much about angels – the Matou family wasn't exactly close to the Church, not since Zouken had abandoned all but the pretence of humanity to prolong his life. And she had never truly believed anyway – she had been too young to hold any true faith when she had been given to the Matou, and what benevolent God would have let what had been done to her happen ? It had been simpler to accept that the world was just cruel in a meaningless and senseless fashion than to believe that her torment had been part of some divine plan. Her fate had been in Zouken's hands from the moment she had been abandoned into the Matou's care. But now …

"Senpai, what's going to happen to me now ?"

"You are going to stay here and live with me," said Shirou matter-of-factly. "I didn't notice that you were hurting since we knew each other, and my actions resulted in the loss of your family and home. I have a responsibility to look after you now."

She looked at him, not daring to believe what she was hearing. She had _dreamt _of living with her Senpai every time she had come to visit him, every time she had helped him cook or clean. She hadn't been able to help herself, even as that dream tore her heart apart when she inevitably had to leave and return to her real, nightmarish life outside that small island of happiness.

"You should know that your house burned down last night," Shirou continued. "I saw the flames as I was carrying you here. I think the fire was started by some sort of magical dead-man switch, but it could also have been triggered by the incendiary I used to purge the … the basement. Sorry about that – you won't be getting any of your stuff back from there."

She shook her head wordlessly. There was nothing in that home that she would have wanted to keep anyway. There were only two possessions she truly treasured : the ribbon she had been given by her sister before the two of them had been torn apart, which she still wore in her hair even now; and the keyring Senpai had given her with the key to his home when she had told him she wanted to repay his saving her from that criminal. That keyring may be lost alongside the other, lesser possessions that had been in her fake room, but she didn't care about it – how could she, when it seemed that she had gained so much more in exchange ?

"The police will be all over the site," Senpai said. "And while I know how to perform simple hypnosis to keep the secrecy of Magecraft, it's far too late to hide what happened yesterday. So we are going to have to rely on more mundane methods to make sure neither of us get in trouble."

Senpai picked up the phone in the living room. Like most of the house's equipment, it was modern, one of the reasons why Sakura had never considered her Senpai could be a practitioner of Magecraft. Magi tended to look down on technology, and Zouken hadn't been any different – though he had admittedly had better reasons than most, since he _was _a very old man-shaped abomination.

After asking Sakura to remain silent, Shirou made a call, putting the phone on speaker so that she could hear both sides of the conversation. Five rings after the call connected, it was picked up.

"_Kamido here,"_ said a gruff voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Kamido-san. It's Shirou."

"_Kiddo ? What's wrong ? I heard from the boss' granddaughter that you were sick."_

"I am better, thank you. I need to meet with Fujimura-san as soon as possible. It's about the events that occurred last night in Miyama Town. I am sure you have already heard about them ?"

"_... What the hell ? Yeah, we did. Kid, what happened ? That area is far from the contested territories – there is nothing there of interest to our rivals. Do I need to gather the boys ?"_

"No, the immediate danger has already been dealt with. I need help managing the fallout, though. I have a guest in my home, and she too needs to meet Fujimura-san."

"'_She' , huh ? Why am I not surprised ? … Fine. Wait a minute, I will go ask the boss."_

Several moments later, the man called Kamido picked up the phone again : _"Okay, kid, the boss is willing to meet you and your guest this morning. Be at the gates in one hour."_

"Thank you, Kamido-san. I am sorry to intrude further, but could you send a vehicle to pick us up ?" Shirou looked at where Sakura was sitting. "And … if you could also bring some of Fuji-nee's old clothes – from her middle-school years ?"

"_What._" Kamido's response was utterly flat.

"As I said, I have a friend over," Shirou explained hastily, apparently only just realizing how what he had asked could be interpreted. "She is part of the reason I need to speak with Fujimura-san. I want her to be present at the meeting, and I don't have any clothing her size. She is younger than me, but anything you have would be better than what she is wearing right now."

"_Tch. Fine. I will come pick you up myself and bring something for your girlfriend. But t__his better be important, kid,"_ warned the man. _"The boss likes you and you are useful, but asking for a meeting on such short notice ..."_

"I know. I swear to you that it is important. I will see you soon, then."

"_Yeah, yeah. Bye."_

The line went dead, and Shirou hung up the phone.

"Who was that, Senpai ?" Sakura asked timidly.

"Someone I occasionally do odd jobs for," he replied, opening a drawer and pulling out an unmarked envelope. He opened the envelope, and Sakura's eyes widened as she saw the stack of bills inside.

Shirou counted the cash, before nodding. "This should be enough to buy you everything you need. I know some good shops where we can go. I will take you there after meeting with Fujimura-san."

"Why do you need to meet Fujimura-sensei ?" She asked, confused. What did the young woman who was almost always at Senpai's home whenever Sakura went there have to do with this ?

"No, not Fuji-nee : her grandfather, Raiga. Leader of the Fujimura Group, also known as the one and only Yakuza syndicate in Fuyuki." He smiled at Sakura's shocked expression. "I know. I was surprised too, when I heard Fuji-nee was related to a gang boss. Don't worry, he isn't too bad. Anyway, that's why we need to go see him : we need his help dealing with what happened yesterday."

She looked at him, trying to look past her surprise at the revelation that the ditzy woman who was almost always in Senpai's home when she came was related to a crime syndicate – or that her kind Senpai had apparently 'worked' for such an organization in the past.

Did Senpai think the influence of this Fujimura-san would be enough ? Maybe it would. Part of her wanted to believe that it would be – wanted to trust him. But Senpai had already admitted that he wasn't a Magus, that he wasn't perfect or infallible. And the thought that this unexpected happiness he was offering her may be snatched from her grasp was enough to stir her to speak.

"Even if Fujimura-san can help us with the mundane side of things," she began "what about the other magi of Fuyuki ? Grandfather was known to them, even if none of them _liked _him. They will come for you, Senpai. Does the Second Owner know you are a magus ?"

The idea that she did – that all along, _she _had known something about Senpai which Sakura hadn't – was … unpleasant.

"The Second Owner … that's Tohsaka, right ?" Sakura nodded, her shoulders tense. "I thought so. No, she doesn't know, or at least I don't think she does." All of a sudden, she relaxed, her fears, no matter how irrational, dispelled. "Her home isn't far from yours, so she probably picked up on what happened … That's even more reason we need to deal with the protection of the secrecy first. Then if she comes to investigate, I will tell her what happened. I am sure she will understand why I had to go and save you. As for living on her territory without her permission, I suppose I will have to find a way to make it up to her."

Despite her best efforts, something of Sakura's ugly feelings must have shown on her face, and he looked at her with renewed concern.

"You don't like Tohsaka much, do you, Sakura ? I noticed that, but I never thought about it."

"It's … it's not that I don't like her," she whispered, looking down at the table as she wrestled with a confusing mess of emotions – shame, guilt, and the one that caused the other two – anger.

"She is my sister," she finally said, daring to look up at him. "My birth sister. I … I was born Sakura Tohsaka, and was adopted into the Matou family when it was discovered that their only living descendant didn't have Magic Circuits. It was only later that Nii-sama was told, but it was always intended that _I _would become the heir of the Matou family, to carry on their Magecraft."

She ran her hand through her hair. "Zouken did … things to me, when I was first adopted, with the help of Byakuya – Nii-sama's father and the official head of the Matou family, even if he was always Grandfather's puppet. They changed my body so that I could use the Matou Mysteries. It changed the color of my hair and my eyes, along with other things."

"Magi," whispered Shirou, the word sounding like a curse. "Did … did your parents know what they were condemning you to ?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I don't think they did, and now that they are dead I will never know for certain. But our families were allies for a long time, Senpai – they wouldn't have given me away to the Matou otherwise. I find it hard to believe they didn't know what the Matou Magecraft was like …"

Her Senpai closed his eyes for several seconds, taking deep breaths. When he re-opened them, there was steel in them along with the kindness and care.

"It doesn't matter. If Tohsaka comes, I will tell her the truth. If you want to reconnect with her, then you can. For now … let's clean up the dishes, shall we ? We can do _that _much together."

* * *

Less than twenty minutes after Shirou's phone call, a car parked in front of the Emiya residence. The Fujimura estate wasn't that far away, but Shirou felt it was best to avoid being seen outside with Sakura on the very tomorrow of her so-called "family's" demise. And he hadn't been lying when he had told Kamido-san he didn't have clothes that fit Sakura. For some reason, Kiritsugu had left him several wardrobes full of women's clothes, but all of them were sized for an adult woman – nothing that would fit Sakura, even if she were more developed than most girls her age.

Muttering something about how he would make Shirou pay for the humiliation, Kamido handed over an old school uniform of Fuji-nee, and Sakura changed quickly before following Shirou into the Yakuza's car.

Kamido drove the two teenagers across Miyama Town's Japanese section. Within a few minutes, they had arrived at the Fujimura estate – which was several times the size of the Emiya household. The guards at the entrance let them pass without problem, though Shirou noted that they were more tense than usual. It appeared that the events of last night had had more repercussions than he thought. That was something he would need to keep in mind.

Kamido escorted Shirou and Sakura through the estate. It was an old Japanese mansion, with plenty of signs of the Fujimura Group's prosperity in evidence. Like most Yakuza groups, the Fujimura had risen after the second World War, bringing a semblance of order to the war-torn nation. Raiga Fujimura, the current patriarch of the Group, was old enough to actually remember those days, even if he had just been a child back then.

It was under Raiga's guidance that the Fujimura Group had become something that Shirou felt comfortable supporting despite technically remaining an illegal organization. Raiga had remade the Fujimura, once a military family, into a syndicate that protected Fuyuki from the shadows. They had carved their territory through Raiga's cunning and held it because the people of the city recognized that they were better than any alternative.

For all intents and purposes, the Fujimura Group was more akin to a militia than an actual criminal gang, dedicated to keeping the worst of the underworld's scum from establishing any kind of influence in Fuyuki. They had regular contacts with the police force and other city officials. Most of their resources were tied down to legitimate businesses, which were supplemented by contributions from concerned business owners who didn't want the city's tranquillity to be disturbed, along with a few seedier businesses in the entertainment district.

Raiga had once described his position to Shirou as that of a castle's lord watching against foreign invasions. Having taken part in several operations against such "invasions", Shirou felt that the comparison was an apt one. The men in suits that Raiga employed _were _mostly uncouth brutes, but in Raiga's employ, they found a purpose that didn't involve hurting innocent people. The regular martial arts training sessions Raiga imposed upon his followers helped discipline them, along with providing them an edge in a country where firearms were much less prevalent than in others.

Shirou had told all of this to Sakura as they cleaned up after breakfast and waited for Kamido to arrive. He didn't expect her to have to say much during the meeting, but she should know what they were getting into.

Kamido guided Shirou and Sakura to a room deep within the estate, and gestured for the two of them to enter. They would meet Raiga alone, which was a sign of how much the old man trusted the teenager – or perhaps one that he knew whatever they were going to discuss wasn't for anyone else's ears. Side by side, the two teens entered, Kamido closing the door behind them.

At the end of the room was Raiga Fujimura himself, seated like a noble from a period drama welcoming a supplicant to an audience. The Oyabun was an elderly gentleman in his seventies, with a mane of white hair and a long beard of the same color. Despite his old age, he still commanded an impressive presence, and his brown eyes remained as piercing as ever. He smiled as Shirou and Sakura entered.

"Shirou-kun !" he greeted them with a wide smile that revealed several silver teeth – legacy of a misspent youth, as he liked to call them. "It has been a long time since you visited me in person. And who is your lady friend ?"

"Good morning, Raiga-san. This is Sakura Matou," explained Shirou, "a dear friend of mine."

Sakura mumbled her own greetings, staying close to Shirou. She wasn't exactly afraid – after what she had been through, it would take a lot to scare her – but she was definitely uneasy.

"Ah, I see. My granddaughter told me about her." The Oyabun's expression grew more serious as he focused on the girl. "I believe I owe you an apology, Sakura-san. It was because of the Fujimura Group's failings that you were subjected to that … situation one year ago. Our failings resulted in that particular individual escaping us, and Shirou-kun had to clean up our mess. I am sorry that you had to go through that traumatic experience." He lowered his head in apology.

"Ah ... that's not a problem. I wasn't really scared ... and it was thanks to it that I met Senpai."

Raiga frowned as he looked at her, no doubt finding no lie in her words and wondering how it was possible for a child not to have been scared when witnessing an armed robbery. He quickly shook it off, however, and gestured for the two teenagers to sit before him. A clap of his hands summoned someone bringing them cups and a fresh pot of tea before leaving them alone once more, and soon the three of them were drinking together.

The tea was excellent, Shirou noted, and not the standard fare he was typically offered when he came to the Fujimura estate on business.

"In case you weren't aware," the Oyabun told Sakura as they put down their cups, "Shirou has been working for me on and off for some time now. He has inherited some of his father's special talents."

"Not all of them," muttered the red-headed teenager.

"Something for which I have been grateful in the past years, considering some of the stories I heard about Kiritsugu. And yet, I find myself wondering if that has changed." The levity left the older man's eyes, and he fixed a serious stare on Shirou. "I have heard from my contacts in the force, Shirou-kun. They told me that the Matou estate completely burned down last night, though the firemen were able to contain the blaze to the property's boundaries … its _exact _boundaries, in fact. The greenhouse burned down too, but none of the neighbouring homes got so much as a fright. Quite strange, don't you think ?"

"Yes," replied Shirou. "It's lucky for those neighbours that the firemen were so efficient."

The Oyabun stared at the boy for a few seconds before shaking his head.

"Fine. Far from me to ask about your methods. Still, I need to know what happened, especially if you are going to ask a favor of me related to this situation." He stopped here expectantly, and Shirou took the offered opening.

"Yesterday, I learned that Sakura had been abused for years by her brother and her grandfather, and decided to put an end to it."

He wished he could have been less blunt, especially with Sakura being in the room. But he knew that brutal honesty was his best option there. He reached to his right and took Sakura's hand in his own, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Long story short," he went on, "Shinji – the brother – died in an accident during the confrontation, and I killed Zouken, the grandfather when he tried to hold Sakura hostage and force me to take Shinji's place in the abuse."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Raiga was a hard man, Shirou knew. His conquest of Fuyuki's underworld hadn't been bloodless, nor had been his reign since then. But even he was shaken by what Shirou was describing in the same neutral tone he had always used when reporting to the Oyabun or his subordinates after an operation.

If the ones responsible weren't already dead, Shirou had little doubt that the Fujimura Group would have gone after them without hesitation. He also knew that, had the Yakuza attacked the Matou residence, they would have been slaughtered. Their orders _might _have been enough for them to overcome the redirection wards, but the other defenses of the estate would have butchered them.

"I did not start the fire that consumed the estate," Shirou continued, "but it's possible that it was an unintended result of my actions. I left in a hurry after rescuing Sakura, and wasn't exactly thinking clearly. I brought her to my home and we spent the night there, until I called Kamido-san this morning to arrange this meeting."

For a long moment, Raiga remained immobile, looking down at his empty tea cup. Shirou didn't know what the old man was seeing, but he doubted it was pleasant.

"The Matou were one of the few families whose presence in Fuyuki predates even my own," the Oyabun said at last. "Far older than my own clan, and even more influential in certain ways. They had fallen from grace in recent times, yet even so, I made sure that my people know not to mess with them. And you claim to have all but destroyed them ?" The old man raised an eyebrow. "This is quite the escalation from your normal methods, Shirou-kun. Do you intent to follow in your father's footsteps ?"

Shirou shook his head. "No, Raiga-san. As I said, there were ... exceptional circumstances at play. And I didn't go there with the _intent _to kill anyone, even if I would be lying if I said I wasn't prepared to if needed. Even so, I didn't kill Shinji, and as for Zouken … let's just say that no court of law would recognize what I did to him as murder."

Raiga still seemed uneasy, not that Shirou could blame the old man. Even he knew that hearing a teenager talk about that kind of things so calmly was disturbing. Finally, the Oyabun sighed.

"Fine. I understand the situation more clearly. Now, what is it that you need from me, Shirou-kun ?"

"There are two things, Raiga-san. First, I need you to make sure that the investigation in the Matou residence burning down concludes that it was an accident, one that claimed both the lives of Zouken and Shinji Matou."

"That won't be easy," mused Raiga. "Zouken had his own contacts among the police, which he controlled through both bribery and blackmail. They will want to make sure that no trace of their illegal dealings can come to light. But as long as they have confirmation that Zouken is dead …"

"That's going to be problematic," Shirou cut in. "I _know _Zouken didn't leave a body behind, and I am not sure Shinji did either."

_That _had Raiga raising an eyebrow again. Shirou held the Oyabun's stare, schooling his features, revealing nothing.

"Hmm. Well, it's still doable. Let's see … Alright. The official story will be that Sakura-chan was spending the night at your place when her home caught fire due to a gas leak and a faulty electrical appliance, tragically killing her brother and grandfather in such a way not even the bodies remained. Thankfully, Sakura-chan was visiting you in your home, since you were sick – something which the school records will confirm – and decided to spend the night, which ended up saving her life. The fire spread across the entire estate, but the firemen were able to keep it contained and prevent damage to the other houses – I will have someone more versed in these matters come up with a suitable justification for the media. Yes, it should not be too difficult to arrange for this to become the official conclusion. I will contact some of my men to iron out the details, but that should be all you two need to know to keep up appearances on your end. What else do you want, Shirou-kun ?"

Shirou swallowed. This was it. The previous favor was important, to be sure, but this one was much more so.

"Sakura has lost her entire family, such as it was," he began. "With the circumstances of her upbringing, I don't think it would be a good idea for her to be passed on to social services. I need you to set things up so that she can live with me until she reaches adulthood."

Raiga cocked his head to the side, looking at Shirou and Sakura in turn with a thoughtful expression.

"I don't know if I _should _help you with that, Shirou-kun. Don't misunderstand, I am sorry for what has happened to the young lady, and I would be glad to help her. But despite your unique circumstances, you are _still _a minor living on his own, with my granddaughter as your guardian."

"Which is why I am calling in all of my markers for it," replied Shirou. "Do this for me, Raiga-san, and every debt between us will be cleared."

"I thought you were helping us because it helped keep the city safe ?"

"I do," confirmed Shirou, "but you and your men were the ones who kept insisting that you would pay me back someday. That day has come, Raiga-san."

"Hmm. Is that girl so important to you ?"

"She is," replied Shirou without hesitation.

There was a moment of silence, with Sakura fidgeting nervously at Shirou's side, her face red from Shirou's words. Then Raiga laughed.

"Good ! Good ! I am glad you are finally showing some desire of your own, even if it is to help someone. You are growing into a fine young man, Shirou-kun. But what of you, Sakura-chan ? Do _you_ want to live with Shirou-kun ? If you are afraid of being separated from him, I can make sure you are put in the care of someone living close by. I have plenty of contacts with people outside of the underworld who would be happy to take in a nice young girl like you."

"I," began Sakura timidly. She glanced at Shirou."I want to live with Senpai."

"Then it shall be done. I will have to pull a lot of strings, and she _will _be marked down as the ward of someone – there is no going around that, Shirou-kun. But that person will be under my employ, or as long as Sakura-chan is fine at your home we will let it continue."

Shirou glanced at Sakura. There was an expression of mixed relief, joy and shock on her face – as if she could not believe that all of this was happening.

_I will not fail her again_, he swore to himself for what felt like the hundredth time since he had pulled her out of that dreadful pit in the Matou residence.

"One last thing, however," said Raiga, a worrying smile on his face. "I am fine with Sakura-chan living with you, Emiya-kun, but you are the one who will need to convince my granddaughter to let it happen."

_You old bastard_, thought Shirou, though without much heat. This was not a conversation he looked forward to, even if it needed to happen sooner or later.

* * *

By the time they left the Fujimura estate, there was still one hour left until noon, so Shirou kept his promise and took Sakura shopping. Feeling guilty for the fact that circumstances hadn't let her keep anything she owed, Shirou told Sakura not to hold back and pick up anything she liked. It took several attempts, but he eventually convinced her.

They bought an entire wardrobe, replacement for the school supplies she had lost (Shirou had already told her she could copy his own notes from last year), and an assortment of other day-to-day tools needed for any teenage girl. The minutes Shirou spent standing in front of the underwear store while Sakura was inside were some of the most awkward of the teen's young life.

Then Shirou, already carrying several increasingly heavy bags, had to nearly drag Sakura into the bookstore after he caught Sakura wistfully glancing at it.

The store's owner recognized Sakura. As Sakura ventured into the shop to find some books to buy, the old lady told Shirou that the girl had often spent hours in here after school, leaving only when the store closed, reading books and rarely buying any.

"Normally I wouldn't allow it," she confessed, "but the poor thing looked so sad ... I almost didn't recognize her when she came in with that smile on her face. You take care of her, you hear me, dear ?"

"I will," Shirou promised. "We are ... I am not sure what we are, but I will take care of her. And … thank you."

She smiled knowingly at him. When Sakura came back with a handful of books, she wished her good luck as she rang them at the counter.

With their shopping finished, the two of them ate together at a small family restaurant. While the food wasn't on the level of either of their cooking, it was still good, and Sakura ate with the same appetite she had displayed at breakfast.

"Were you really that hungry ?" asked Shirou, slightly concerned.

"No," said Sakura, blushing once more. "It's just ... food tastes much better now."

Was it because of the worms' removal ? Because of Avalon's copy ? Or just because she was free now ?

Shirou didn't know. In truth, he didn't really care, so long as she continued to smile.

"Alright," said Shirou once they had finished eating and paid their tab. "Time to go home and face the Tiger."

"Does Fujimura-sensei know about your involvement with her grandfather ?" asked Sakura.

"No. She knows I sometimes repair bikes and cars for the gang, but that's all. She doesn't know about Magecraft or my jobs for Raiga-san. And I think it would be better to keep it that way."

She nodded. Sakura's education into Magecraft may have been unconventional to say the least, but she understood the importance of preserving its secrecy.

* * *

As it turned out, Taiga was waiting for them when they arrived to the Emiya residence. Raiga had contacted her, and told her both the fabricated story about the Matou household catching fire and Shirou's request that Sakura live with him from that point on.

Of course, the first thing Taiga did when they arrived was fret over Sakura while Shirou carried their purchases to the room Sakura had woken up in, and which would be hers from now on. Then, once Shirou returned, she immediately turned on him – both figuratively and literally.

"Shirou, you are fifteen. You aren't old enough to take care of a teenage girl, and old enough that letting you live under the same roof as one goes against my duties as your guardian. The fact that it saved her life is the only reason I am not angry you let her stay here last night without telling me !"

"I have to take care of Sakura, Fuji-nee," he replied calmly. "It's my responsibility."

"Why would it ... Oh God." Taiga turned green, and shook visibly, before her anger resurged. "Sakura-chan, are you pregnant ?! Shirou ! How could you ?! She is only fourteen !"

"What ?! NO ! No, no, no ! We haven't ... we haven't done anything like that !" shouted Shirou, his face looking like a tomato.

"Oh thank God," breathed Taiga, sitting back down. "I was actually worried there for a second ..."

The three of them were in the living room. Sakura was sitting at the table while Shirou and Taiga talked. Thankfully, she wasn't wearing Taiga's old clothes, having changed into new ones at the store where they had bought them. Shirou didn't know if Kamido had told his big sister that he had borrowed them, and if the Yakuza hadn't he didn't want to be the one to open that particular can of worms.

"So," said Taiga. "If not because you made her … _that_, why is it that Sakura-chan should live with you, Shirou ?"

"She is my friend. And … and so was Shinji." Shirou's face turned grim. "Isn't there a saying that once you save someone's life, you are responsible for it afterwards ?"

"Yes, but … that's just a saying, Shirou," sighed Taiga. "You aren't supposed to take it literally, especially when you are still a kid yourself."

"You are always telling me that I am more mature than most adults you know," Shirou pointed out.

"And you are," she admitted, sounding more serious than Shirou could ever remember her being, "you really are. But this … If it comes out, it won't just be me in trouble as your guardian. Grandfather can keep you from legal troubles, but even he can't stop the rumors that will spread – and those may very well follow you all your life, so long as you stay in Fuyuki."

"I," Sakura began, and Shirou and Taiga immediately turned toward her. "I want to stay here. I want to live with Senpai."

Conflicting emotions flashed on Taiga's face, finally settling on a rueful smile.

"Argh. How am I supposed to say no to that face ? I feel like the evil stepmother trying to separate the two lovebirds … Fine, then. I will allow it. But !" She turned toward Shirou, pointing a threatening finger at the teenage boy.

"You better take care of Sakura-chan," she warned. "If you make her cry, I will never forgive you !"

"I won't," promised Shirou.

The young woman looked at the two teenagers, a wide grin slowly forming on her face. Then she shook her head, and started walking toward the door.

"I'll come back tomorrow for lunch," she called out "Don't do anything I wouldn't approve of !"

Shirou rolled his eyes at his guardian's parting words. Had he not done so, he might have noticed the wink Taiga directed at Sakura before leaving.

* * *

After Taiga left, Sakura worked together with Shirou to put everything they had bought inside the dressers of her new room, before going back to the living room, where they sat together in the quiet. After everything that had happened today, the sudden tranquillity was a welcome respite.

Sakura felt light-headed, giddy almost. Her entire being as high strung, her mind filled with disbelieving joy. She was safe. She was free. She was living with her Senpai now.

And yet …

"Senpai-""Sakura-"

The two of them paused as they began talking at the exact same time. With a smile, Shirou gestured for Sakura to go first.

"I wanted to thank you, Senpai. For everything you did yesterday, and today … and before."

Shirou frowned. "It wasn't the cleanest of rescues, and it took far too long to come. I am sorry you couldn't be saved by a knight in white armor," he half-jested. "You had to settle for me instead."

"I don't care," she whispered. "You saved me, Senpai. You saw me ... and you didn't abandon me. You didn't turn away in disgust, even if I was filthy-"

"You were not filthy."

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment some of the fierce figure he had been when he had stood atop the pit and faced Zouken without a speck of fear in his eyes returned.

"Whatever it was I did yesterday purged Zouken's manipulations from you, and Avalon's copy restored you to your normal state over the night. Even then, there are still traces left – like scars, except on the inside of your body. But, Sakura ... even before that, you were not filthy. Never think of yourself like that. You were an innocent caught in the clutches of an evil monster. Nothing that was done to you is your own fault."

"If it wasn't my fault ..." she began slowly, before she pushed through her shyness and looked up straight into Shirou's eyes, "then it wasn't yours either, Senpai. I am not an idiot. I can see that you are blaming yourself for what happened to me ... and for Nii-sama's death."

"Sakura, the only reason I was able to get you out was because I turned into some kind of monster without any idea how I did it. I went in without a plan, with only the thought that I _had _to save you without thinking about _how _I could do it. I was stupid, and only a miracle let us get out of there alive. You should not thank me for that. I didn't save you – I merely pulled you out of the wreckage of my mistakes …"

The same expression he had shown her this morning when she had woken up – that look of understanding as some epiphany flashed behind his eyes – briefly passed on Senpai's face, before barely-masked guilt replaced it. This … Sakura would not allow this.

"But you did save me," she replied, her voice as soft and unyielding as the sea. "You saved me long ago, when I first saw you."

"You mean in that store ? Sakura, that wasn't -"

"No, Senpai. It was long before that." She blushed and looked down. "It was at school. I had finished cleaning up the classroom and was leaving when I saw that there was someone in the courtyard, trying to do a high jump over and over again."

She smiled softly, briefly lost in her recollection.

"I thought he should just stop. I remember that it annoyed me that he kept going at it again and again, even if he kept failing. I thought that this boy should just give up, should just stop trying. But … you didn't. And I kept watching you, until you succeeded."

"Sakura ..."

"I sound like a stalker, don't I ? But … seeing you keep trying despite always failing … By that point, I had already stopped trying to fight against Gran-against _Zouken_."

Somehow, Shirou knew that Sakura would never refer to that old monster as her Grandfather.

"I had stopped even _thinking _about fighting him," she continued, "about resisting him. I was falling apart and I didn't even have the strength to care about it, or about what he would make of me after I had broken completely. But seeing you … it gave me the strength to keep going."

She felt his hands around her shoulders then, pulling her close. She laid her head on his chest, part of her revelling in his closeness, something she had not dared to hope for before.

"So … thank you, Senpai. Even if you didn't realize it, even if it was a small, silly thing, you saved me from myself then." She looked up at him, and her smile was bright as the noon sun. "Then you saved me from that robber, and now you have saved me from Zouken. You are making a habit of it."

"I will save you as many times as it takes," he promised. "I won't abandon you, Sakura."

"Part of me still thinks that this is a dream," she whispered. "That I will wake up and be back in the pit, with the worms inside me and Grandfather looking down."

He hugged her. "This is real," he whispered back to her.

"How do you know ?" she asked him, her voice almost breaking. "How can I be sure ?"

Shirou thought on it for a moment. He had learned to distinguish between dreams and reality years ago, when the nightmares from the Fire had haunted his nights and he had thought he was back amidst the flames. He remembered that, the first times he had had those nightmares, he had thought that everything since – his adoption, his training, his _life –_ had been the dream, that he had never escaped that place of ashes and ruin.

Maybe …

"I know," he said, "because I was saved once too."

He told her, holding her tight in his arms all the while. He told her about everything : about the Fire, about him being found by Kiritsugu. He told her about Avalon, and about Kiritsugu's activities as the Magus Killer and his participation in the Grail War – and the reason why his father had destroyed the Holy Grail at its conclusion. He told her about being a Sword Incarnation, and about the dreams of mist-filled forests. He told her of his dreams of being a hero, of fulfilling his father's ruined dream.

After years of keeping so many secrets, it felt good to share it all with someone he trusted. He felt Sakura relax in his arms as he spoke. The secrets he was telling her could not possibly have been imagined by her, and therefore this couldn't be a dream, no matter how outlandish reality was.

"You told Fujimura-sensei you would take responsibility," she whispered, her head resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"I will." There was no doubt, no question about it. Much of what Shirou believed had been shaken by what had happened in the last forty-eight hours, but this ? This, he knew.

"Really ?" She looked up at him. He met her gaze, and she saw only truth in his golden eyes. She hesitated, a sudden rush of fear nearly causing her to step back – and then Sakura Matou _chose._

She kissed him. After a first instant of shock, Shirou returned her kiss. Within moments, Sakura was half-dragging him across the residence and to his room.

For all his maturity, Shirou was still very much an innocent in some aspects. It took him several moments, even as Sakura's hands began to fiddle with his clothes, to realize what was happening – but once he did, even his self-control could not keep him from answering Sakura's advances. Any reluctance he may have felt from Sakura still being in shock was swept aside by a combination of love, desire, and the will to prove to Sakura that he would _never _consider her tainted by what had been done to her.

Hours later, long after the sun had set on the horizon, the two of them finally fell asleep in each other's arms, utterly exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Once again, they dreamt, but neither was tormented by the nightmares that had plagued them all their lives. Instead, they dreamt of one another, and of the life that, by miracles dark and bright, they would make together.

* * *

**AN :** And so we reach the end of the chapters I had already written for this story, with Shirou getting the first member of his harem - and really, who else but Sakura could that possibly be ? I have done terrible things to my characters in the past - Corax from the RH comes to mind, but there is also Governor Valens Tarsis from Warband of the Forsaken Sons or even Ahriman from The Fifteenth Ascendant - but her fate in canon is still horrifying to me. I have no shame in admitting that the only way I could keep myself from crying when watching some of the scenes in the _Heaven's Feel _movies was by imagining this very fic.

To clarify one thing : that last scene is probably representative of the level of "explicit relationship" I am going to put in that story. I am _not _confident enough as a writer to try my hands at lemons, thank you very much. All you are getting are tasteful fade to black.

So, we have gotten this far. What did you think of the story ? Did you like it ? What do you hope to see in the future ? Where could it have been better ? As I have said before, this fic is an attempt at something completely different, so I welcome all constructive criticism.

Next chapter : the reaction of Fuyuki's remaining supernatural community, Shirou and Sakura settling in their new lifestyle, and a visit from a certain red-wearing Tsundere.

Zahariel out.


	5. Chapter 4

_**December 1st, 2002 AD – Tohsaka residence**_

Rin Tohsaka was not happy.

This was not uncommon for her, especially when it was Sunday morning and she had been awoken from her sleep a mere three hours after she had emerged from her Workshop, gotten into her pajamas and crashed into her bed, her latest set of experiments finally complete. She had spent over twenty hours working on her jewels, and had been looking forward to spending the entire day in bed before going back to school on Monday.

Instead, she had woken up when that damned rotary phone she had inherited from her father (who had been surprisingly modern by magi standards) had rung – and _kept ringing_, despite her attempts to silence it by burrowing her head in cushions and stubbornly refusing to move. Eventually, she had dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs, the journey barely enough for some of her fatigue to be replaced by a cold, seething rage at whoever had disturbed her rest.

"_What,"_ she snarled as she picked up the phone, barely refraining herself from crushing it to pieces.

"_Good morning, Rin," _replied the voice on the line, utterly unfazed by the hatred in her tone.

"Kirei," she all but growled. "Why are you calling me this early on a Sunday ?"

"_It _is _nearly eleven AM," _answered the priest, not even bothering to hide his amusement. _"As your guardian, I feel I should be worried about the hours my charge keeps on off-school days."_

"If you called me just to wake me up, so help me God -"

"_Of course not," _he interrupted her, his tone suddenly all business. _"Amusing as that would be, even I would not be so crass. I have called you not as my ward, but as Fuyuki's Second Owner."_

The words felt like cold water thrown in Rin's face. Since she had completed her tutelage under Kirei, taken the reins of the Tohsaka family – along with its much-diminished finances – and assumed the position that had belonged to her forebears for generations, the fake priest had never contacted her in that aspect of their relationship.

She could think of many reasons why Kirei was calling her right now – few of them good.

She swallowed, and asked : "What has happened ?"

"_Zouken and Shinji Matou died on Friday night, and the Matou residence burned to the ground."_

For several seconds, Rin remained silent, the last traces of her sleepiness banished and replaced by shock. Eventually, her mind managed to reboot, and she asked :

"Are you sure the old monster is dead ? I was under the impression he was using some kind of Magecraft to keep himself alive, and that sort of thing isn't easy to overcome."

Kirei chuckled. _"Believe me, I know more about the means by which Zouken preserved his loathsome existence than you __did__. I made sure to check, using some of the methods at my disposal __as an Exorcist.__ Yes, Rin, __I am sure.__ Zouken is dead."_

Rin forced herself not to let any emotion show in her voice as she continued : "And what of the Matou heir ? Did she … die too ?" She didn't think so, or Kirei would have mentioned it – but she wouldn't put it beyond the fake priest to hold that information just so that she would have to ask.

"_It does not seem so. The police thinks that she is alive. Apparently, she was spending the night at a friend's home and was thus spared from the destruction."_

A friend ? As far as Rin knew, Sakura didn't have any friend at school, except – _Emiya. _Of course. She knew Sakura visited him in his house – they came to school together more often than not. And Sakura's crush on the red-haired boy couldn't have been more obvious. Not that Rin couldn't understand – Emiya was the only one who showed any kindness to the girl, and he wasn't bad-looking besides – but it still surprised her that Shinji would let his sister spend the night out, given how he always reacted when Sakura and Emiya came to school together.

"She was at Emiya's, wasn't she ?"

There was a pause, and when Kirei spoke up again, there was the faintest hint of surprise in his voice :

"… _Yes, she was in t__he__ home __of one Shirou Emiya__, according to the latest police report. My contacts also told me that the paperwork is being filed for her to _live _there from now on, and that there is a certain amount of push to make it go through quickly and without fanfare. The same kind of pressure is also being applied on the investigation of the Matou residence's destruction, to make sure it is classified as an accident."_

"Where is that pressure coming from ?" She would have expected Kirei to be the one to do that; there was no telling what the police could find investigating the ruins of the Matou residence that would threaten the secrecy of Magecraft. But if it wasn't him and Zouken (the only other Magus in Fuyuki with that kind of pull with the police force after her father's death) was dead, then who ?

"_I don't know," _admitted the fake priest, and Rin almost smiled as she heard how much he disliked saying it out loud. _"Which in itself is a clue, since it means that whoever is behind this has enough influence to counter mine."_

That … was worrying. Left unsaid was the implication that whoever had managed to kill Zouken in the heart of his power – she barely gave a second thought to Shinji's demise, as even a particularly dim child could have figured out a way to kill the preening teenager – was the most likely suspect. Which meant that they had managed to infiltrate the city rather thoroughly before striking, if they could wield that kind of influence over the police.

"Fine. I admit that you had a pretty good reason to wake me up," Rin grumbled. "I will go visit Sa-the Matou heir, and get the story from her. Give me the address."

She knew Kirei had caught her last-second word swap, but wonder of wonder, the fake priest didn't mention it. He told her the address, before going silent. Just when Rin was about to hang up on him, he spoke up once more :

"_Rin, there is something you should know. The boy, Emiya … he is most likely a magus."_

She frowned. "I have met him many times at school, Kirei. He never struck me as a practitioner."

"_That just means that he's good at keeping his true nature hidden, which is a trait shared by every Magus worth the name," _the fake priest chided her. _"It was the name 'Emiya' that drew my curiosity when I saw it in the report. When I dug deeper, I found that he was the adoptive son of Kiritsugu Emiya, known to both the Association and the Church as the Magus Killer – a freelancer of dreadful reputation among both your peers and mine. I wasn't aware of t__he boy's__ presence in the city until today, nor that you were close to him in any fashion, or I would have warned you before now. Rin, if he is anything like his father, then he will be far more dangerous than you can handle. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me overmuch if he were the one who put Zouken down."_

"That's ridiculous," she snapped. "_Emiya_, a threat ? He doesn't even react when Shinji insults him to his face !"

"_Rin … Kiritsugu Emiya was one of the last Grail War's Masters. He fought in the name of the Einzbern, and was the Master with the higher kill counter. Official Church records mark him as having died around that time, but there were many who suspected he had merely faked his death. Yet for all his enemies who sought him out – and believe me, he had _many _enemies – none of them could find him. If he stayed in Japan after the War, that explains it : the Association has little influence on this continent, as you well know."_

Of course she knew. As far as the Mage Association was concerned, Japan – and the entirety of Asia, if she were honest – was a backwater, populated only by amateur magi and a handful of inhuman bloodlines whose sole interest was as test subjects for the experiments of their "betters". And for all that Fuyuki stood at the confluence of several ley lines, it was devoid of any such bloodlines, making its sole interest to Western magi the Grail War that took place there every fifty years. If this "Magus Killer" really had such a dreadful reputation as Kirei seemed to imply, then hiding in Fuyuki had actually been quite clever : the Association only concerned itself with the city when a Grail War was coming, and he would have known exactly how distant that was.

"_Even I believed him dead," _continued Kirei, _"which I admit was quite the blunder considering he apparently spent years in this city before finally passing away."_

"And he didn't even bother to change his name," Rin pointed out, taking some pleasure in forcing Kirei to confront the scale of his failure. "Are you sure he was that good, and you aren't inflating the threat he posed to justify your own mistakes ?"

"_I am aware that I have erred in this, Rin, but I still need you to listen to me. Only a Magus could have destroyed Zouken, and you and I would have noticed it if one had come from outside Fuyuki. As a rule, magi are not the most subtle people, and while one could possibly have slipped by the two of us, it is much more unlikely they would have been able to build up the influence required to clean up after them like this. I supposed a Dead Apostle could also be responsible, but there haven't been any report of disappearances, and such a creature wouldn't have left a survivor behind. This is why I believe it likely that Shirou Emiya was the one to kill Zouken and his grandson, and to engineer the ongoing cover-up of the attack."_

Rin forced herself to put aside her emotions and consider what Kirei was saying objectively. Was it possible ? Could Emiya have fooled her all this time, keeping his abilities a secret from her – the Second Owner of this city ?

"_I strongly advise you to _not _go to the residence of such an individual alone," _Kirei pressed. _"Strong as you may be, you are nowhere near -"_

Rin slammed the phone down, fuming. Who did Kirei think he was, telling her what to do or not to do ?! She wasn't afraid of Emiya, even if he was apparently the adopted son of some boogeyman of the Moonlit World. She was the Tohsaka Head, heiress to a thaumaturgical legacy that went back hundreds of years. _She _was the Second Owner of Fuyuki, and it burned her pride that she had to learn what had happened to the Matou from _Kirei _instead of figuring out herself.

She was honest with herself enough to know that she hadn't been a good sister to Sakura. When the two of them had been separated, she had followed her father's instructions and treated her as a stranger. _Forget that you had a sister, _Tokiomi had said, and when she thought back on it she fancied that there had been a shade of regret in the magus' voice as he told her this, though perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

Then her father had died, her mother had slowly faded away, and she had been left with _Kirei Kotomine _of all people as a mentor and guardian. He had not treated her badly – her training had been harsh, but no more than should be expected from an Exorcist teaching the heir to an old Magus bloodline. And yet, there had always been something … _wrong _about the man. Something that made her despise him from the bottom of her heart, without being able to say why.

She had _wanted _to get closer to Sakura, as a friend if not as a sister. Their families were supposed to be allies, after all. But by the time she had been freed of Kirei's tutelage and had taken her independence in the Moonlit World, she had not dared to try. What was she supposed to say to the sister her family had abandoned ? After spending years learning the mysteries that were the heritage from which Sakura had been deprived, how could she try to reconnect with her ?

She couldn't do it. She was bitterly aware that it was her cowardice that had kept her from reaching out to her younger sister. All she had done was watch as Shinji continued to insult her, and try to draw some of the fool's attention to herself by making her rejections of his pitiful attempts at wooing her as humiliating as possible. Even then, she knew she had done a lot less for Sakura than Emiya – in the last year, the two of them had become almost inseparable, with Sakura becoming a lot more lively as soon as the red-haired boy approached. She could not bring her sister's happiness.

But _this _? _This _she could do. She would go to Emiya's house, she would extract the truth from him at gempoint if necessary, and if he had hurt Sakura in any way, if Rin's darkest fears proved true – if Emiya's friendship with Sakura had only been the manipulations of a cold-hearted magus seeking to use her to steal the secrets of the Matou family – then he would face the fullness of her wrath as Second Owner. According to Kirei, Emiya was an undeclared magus operating in her territory. She had grounds to kill him even without the recent events.

First, though, she was going to down an entire pot of coffee. She had a feeling she would need it.

An hour later, after cleaning herself up and taking her prana-charged jewels with her, Rin stood before the gates of the Emiya residence. It had apparently started to snow some time before she went to bed, and Fuyuki was covered in a thick layer of snow, with the streets having thankfully already been cleaned. She had passed by the Matou household on the way there, checking for herself that there wasn't any magical activity emanating from the ruins. The area was still closed off, with a couple of policemen checking nobody came too close – openly so that no one would get hurt if there was a collapse in the rubble.

Like Rin, Emiya lived in Miyama Town, though his home was located in the Eastern-style quarter rather than the Western district. Judging by the wooden wall surrounding it, the property was larger than her own – what was left of it anyway, after years of Kirei's mismanagement of her family's finances.

After checking there wasn't anyone else in the street, she closed her eyes and focused inward. She constructed the image of her heart, held it in her mind, then pierced it with an imaginary dagger, triggering her Magic Circuits. Prana flowed through her, leaving her feeling more alive than she had all morning.

She whispered _"__Strukturanalyse__" _under her breath, activating the spell stored in her Magic Crest. Her perceptions expended, and she felt the Bounded Field surrounding the property. Unlike the multi-layered wards that covered her home, she could only detect one Field – a weak one, seemingly aimed at privacy rather than defense … _ah. _There was a component to detect the use of prana. She wasn't sure if her jewels would be enough to trigger it – she had all but emptied her stock before coming, taking even her heirloom ruby pendant. That particular item was charged with enough prana that the slightest draw on its reserves would undoubtedly trigger the ward – but then again, she had brought it as a last measure only.

She took a deep breath, and raised a hand to press the doorbell …

"Oh ? What are you doing here, Tohsaka-san ?"

* * *

Sakura Matou was happy.

The sensation still felt alien to her, though she no longer expected to wake up in the worm pit. Yesterday's talk with Senpai, combined with their passionate night together, had put that particular fear to rest. At least for now, she could tell herself that even in her wildest dreams, she had never imagined her current situation, nor the details of the last night.

For the first time, she understood why people said "making love" when speaking of sex. To her, sex had always been a brutal and debased affair, either at the hands of her brother or in the worm pit. But last night had been different. Without the worms to force her to feel pleasure against her will, the sensations had paradoxically run deeper, felt more _real _than when they had been imposed upon her. Without the guilt, the disgust and the self-hatred, she had been able to let herself experience the feelings the night had brought in full. Senpai hadn't had any experience, but he had still been a more attentive partner than Shinji had ever been, and the sheer _j__oy_ of being with him had brought her to ecstasy time and time again, until she had collapsed in his arms, exhausted and content. Waking up with his arms around her had been another joy.

She was hungry. Neither her nor Senpai had eaten breakfast, since by the time they had woken up they had needed to hurry up and get dressed before starting to cook lunch. Senpai had been sure Fujimura-sensei would come to eat with them, so he had started to cook up a feast – half to distract his guardian and make sure she didn't notice what they had done last night, and half in celebration of the same. The two of them agreed that it was too soon to tell Fujimura-sensei about the change in their relationship's nature, especially since it hadn't even taken them twenty-four hours to do what she had told them they were both too young to do.

Sakura wasn't certain Fujimura-sensei would disapprove – she had seen the wink the teacher had sent her before leaving yesterday. But she went along with Senpai anyway, since it _was_ a bit quick for them to become lovers so quickly – and merely thinking the word sent a new rush of heat up her cheeks.

So Sakura was hungry, but that wasn't enough to put a damper on her happiness. After all, she was cooking alongside Senpai, and since he had saved her, food tasted so much better.

"SHIROU ! SAKURA ! COME SEE WHAT I HAVE BROUGHT !"

"Can you go take care of that ?" asked Senpai with a smile, not frazzled by the sudden shout whatsoever. "I am finishing things up here."

"Of course, Senpai."

Leaving her Senpai in the kitchen, where the last elements of lunch were being prepared, Sakura went to the house's entrance, checking her clothes one last time to make sure there was no sign of last night's activities on her.

"Hello, Fujimura-sensei, and … Tohsaka-san ?"

She froze. Next to Fujimura-sensei was her estranged sister. She was wearing a red cloak and a black skirt, with long black leggings underneath. There were dark rings under her eyes, which were wide and staring at her.

"Hi, Sakura-chan !" greeted Taiga, her voice filled with cheer. "I came to check how the two of you are doing. Tohsaka-san here heard about what happened, and came to see if you were well ! Isn't that nice of her ?"

"Hello, Sakura," said Rin in a weary tone. "I am glad you seem to be okay."

Sakura blinked as she looked between the over-energetic teacher and the exhausted-looking magus, unsure what to think or do. Finally, she fell back on what she knew : acting politely and welcoming the guests in Senpai's home.

"Hello, Fujimura-sensei, Tohsaka-san. Please come in. Sempai is finishing cooking lunch. Will the two of you join us ?"

"I wouldn't want to impose ..." muttered Rin, her eyes still fixed on Sakura, looking her up and down.

"Don't worry, Tohsaka-san," laughed Taiga. "Shirou always cooks a lot when he knows I am coming. I will … ugh … I will give up taking the leftovers back home so that you can join us."

If the adult realized how childish she sounded as she said the last sentence as if she were making a terrible sacrifice, she showed no sign of it.

"Really, you would miss out by not joining us. Shirou is a _great _cook, and Sakura-chan is almost as good. By the way, here, Sakura-chan," said Taiga, handing a bag to her. "I went by the school this morning and got you a replacement uniform."

Sakura glanced inside the paper bag, seeing the folded clothes inside, and bowed in thanks.

"Of course, you won't need it immediately, but I thought it was best to get that out of the way as soon as possible. Now ! What is it that I smell ?"

* * *

Rin wasn't sure what was going on. Whatever she had expected to happen when going to the house of another Magus who had slain Zouken and Shinji, destroyed the Matou estate, taken her sister captive and swept it all under the rug in the eyes of the mundane authorities, this wasn't it.

From the moment that weird teacher – she had seen Fujimura-san accompanying Sakura and Emiya often enough to know that she worked at the high school section of Homurahara Academy – had called out to her, nothing had gone like she had thought it would. She had come half-expecting a fight to rescue her long-lost sister, and instead had been ushered in by that same sister and invited to lunch. And how had that woman snuck up on her, by the way ?! She had been _sure _there hadn't been anyone else in the street !

"Welcome, Tohsaka," greeted Shirou as he put down another set of cutlery. "Please, have a seat. We have cooked more than enough for an additional person."

It would be stupid to accept. She was in the territory of a Magus of unknown talents and skills, but one powerful enough to take down Zouken in his own home.

_Growl._

Except that she had only eaten a cup of soup before going to bed a few hours ago, hadn't eaten any breakfast beyond her coffee, and there was only so much Magus discipline could do against the delicious smells emanating from the meal. Her stomach betrayed her and, defeated and red-faced, Rin Tohsaka sat at the table.

She started to eat, and froze for a moment as her mouth exploded with flavours. With her financial situation always being tense and neither she nor Kirei being great cooks – or rather, in the fake priest's case, not being great at cooking stuff that normal people would recognize as food – Rin wasn't used to eating delicious meals.

She sat, stunned, until she saw Fujimura and the others devour their own portions and take seconds. Then she started eating again, afraid that there would be nothing left by the time she had finished her current serving.

In what seemed the blink of an eye, the food on the table was gone. There had been plenty of it, but everyone had eaten a lot – and while Rin knew why _she_ had been hungry, she wondered what the reasons were for the three others.

"That was delicious," she complimented Shirou and Sakura, still stunned at the display of culinary prowess. The boy accepted the praise with only a slight smile, while the younger girl blushed and looked down as she placed cups of fragrant tea on the table.

"It sure was !" guffawed Taiga. "You put all the stops today, Shirou. Is there something you want to tell me ?"

"Nothing in particular, Fuji-nee. Sakura and me just started working on lunch early."

"Hmm, reaaallly ? That's suspicious ..." The teacher was interrupted by a truly massive yawn.

"You got up early to get Sakura's uniform, didn't you Sensei ?" said Rin. "Aren't you going to be tired tomorrow ?"

"Maaaybe," the adult groaned. "But I didn't want Sakura-chan to worry about it …"

"That's very nice of you, but perhaps you should take a nap then," suggested Rin, looking straight at Taiga as she spoke. The older woman blinked once, twice, before nodding.

"You are right, Rin-chan …" Shirou removed her plate just in time for her arms to hit the table, quickly followed by her head between them as she fell asleep, snoring slightly.

"What did you do ?" asked Shirou in a flat voice. Both he and Sakura had stopped moving and were staring at her warily.

"A minor hypnotism," replied Rin, fixing the boy. "She won't wake up until a couple of hours or any magus disrupts the spell. We need to talk, Emiya-kun, Sakura."

Shirou sighed. "You are right. _Please _don't cast magecraft on my guardian in the future, though."

"S-senpai …" Sakura whispered, drawing close to Shirou.

She was afraid, Rin realized, and not of Emiya, though that would be bad enough. She was afraid of _her_. The realization hit Rin like a hammer, and she felt sick.

"Emiya-kun," she began, "I am here as the Second Owner of Fuyuki City. I trust you at least know what that is ?"

Shirou nodded. "Yes. Dad taught me about the Association and its rules."

"Then why was this morning the first time I heard about your presence in my territory ?"

The red-haired teen shrugged. "I didn't know for sure you were the Second Owner until yesterday when Sakura confirmed it for me, but it was mainly on dad's instructions. He had enemies who he knew wouldn't be above taking their anger out on his son, even an adopted one. It was safer if no one in the Association even knew I existed."

That matched what Kirei had told her, Rin had to admit, even if it didn't diminish the insult to her position in the slightest. Still …

"As a magus in my territory, you fall under my responsibility, Emiya-kun. Anything you did that broke the laws of the Association would be my fault."

"I am not a magus, Tohsaka."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you think I am an idiot ? There is a Bounded Field around this house, weak as it may be. And I _know _you practice Magecraft."

"Oh, I do," he confirmed, taking her off-guard. "But I am not a magus. I don't seek the Root, nor have I inherited my father's Magic Crest. I am a magic user, not a magus. My magecraft is just a tool to an end to me, not an end in itself."

"… Fine," she conceded the point, "but that would still put you under my responsibility. And anyway," she got to the reason she had come in the first place, "if you were supposed to stay under the radar, then why do you have the last surviving Matou in your home ?"

There was a moment of pause.

"You want to know what happened on Friday night."

_No shit_, Rin thought, keeping the profanity to her thoughts and letting only the smallest twitch of her eyebrow convey her irritation.

Shirou sighed. "Fine," he said. "You are right : as Second Owner, you are entitled to knowing the full truth. More importantly ..." His gaze sharpened, and Rin tensed. "... as Sakura's sister, you absolutely _should_ know."

"Ah," Rin winced. "You know ?"

He nodded. "Sakura told me yesterday. She told me how your parents handed her off to Zouken and never contacted her again."

There was no heat in his tone, which somehow made it worse.

"But we aren't speaking about that yet," he continued, to Rin's relief. "As you know, Tohsaka, I missed school on Friday. This was due to a thaumaturgical experiment I performed on Thursday evening. I underestimated the backlash from the spell I was practicing, causing me to be unable to attend school."

Rin hid a frown. It was the first lesson every practitioner of Magecraft learned : to be a Magus was to walk with death, and anytime they used their Mysteries, they risked their lives. This was especially true when testing unfamiliar spells.

"When Sakura visited in the morning, the after-effects of the spell allowed me to realize that she was a Magus – as well as what had been done to her. I, for lack of a better term, _saw _it."

"You 'saw' inside her ?" asked Rin, making no attempt to hide her scepticism. What he was describing … it was the kind of Mystery magi would – and _had –_ kill for.

Shirou remained silent for a few seconds, then his eyes started to glow gold, and he looked her up and down before the glow faded.

"Your Magical Crest is located on your left arm," he began. "It is composed of 30 Magic Circuits. You are also carrying seventeen prana-charged jewels on your person, with the one on your necklace being charged with the greatest amount. In addition ..."

"Okay," Rin cut him off hurriedly, her face pale. "You have made your point. I believe you."

Part of her wanted to lash out at him for daring to use a spell on her without her permission – especially one as intrusive as this one had clearly been – but now wasn't the time.

"Tell me," he continued. "What do you know of the Matou magecraft ?"

Rin blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden question. She dug in her mind, remembering the journals of her ancestors she had read that had mentioned their close ties with the Matou family.

"The Matou magecraft specializes in binding others unto oneself," she replied, "absorbing their energy and traits. As a consequence of that, their mastery of familiars is with few peers, and their knowledge was integral in some of the greatest projects our families worked on together."

"I know about the Grail, Tohsaka," sighed Shirou, and Rin almost jerked. "Dad fought in the last War. He told me everything about it. But that's not what we are discussing right now. The reason I asked you about the Matou magecraft was to see if you knew what your father condemned Sakura to when he abandoned her. She told me she didn't believe he knew, but I wanted to make certain."

"Emiya-kun," Rin all but growled. "I can see that you are building up to something. Stop delaying. What did you see had happened to Sakura ?"

Shirou didn't answer right away. He turned to look at Sakura, as if asking permission to continue. Rin's sister was quiet, and clearly looked uncomfortable. She gave a single, small nod.

"Zouken put worms inside her, Tohsaka. That monster implanted his familiars into her flesh, both to act as makeshift Magic Circuits and to drain her prana in order to sustain his own abominable existence."

Rin's breath caught in her throat.

"That's what I saw when I looked at her on Friday morning," Shirou continued mercilessly. "I saw them burrowed in her flesh, feeding off her like the grotesque parasites they were."

"They were all over her body," he went on, "with the biggest one wrapped around her heart, but the bulk of them was in her sexual organs. They had been altered to feed off her bodily fluids, and sustained themselves by stimulating her."

Rin felt nauseous. She felt the floor under her legs sway. Worms. _Fucking_ worms inside her sister. There was no way her father had known about this. She refused to believe that Tokiomi Tohsaka would have knowingly let something like that happen to his own flesh and blood.

She glanced at Sakura. Despite the subject of the discussion, the younger girl was being very quiet, keeping her eyes downcast and taking slow, deep breaths.

"Sakura told me that this had gone for years," said Shirou. "Apparently, Zouken called these things Crest Worms, after the Magic Crest used by Magus families to carry their legacy from one generation to the next. After the Matou bloodline started to birth less and less powerful magi, Zouken developed the Crest Worms as an alternative for Magic Circuits."

Another sin with which to damn Zouken's blackened soul. Magic Crests were _sacred_. They were the symbol of a family's legacy, equalled only by the family's accumulated research. A Magic Crest was a record of the family's spells, embedded within the very Magic Circuits each wearer had added to it. It was the pinnacle of a bloodline's achievement, every generation making it stronger and adding new spells to its arsenal. And Zouken had made the Matou one into … _worms._ If the Association had heard of it, the entire family would have been wiped out as Heretics and their research put to the torch, lest any other Magus get ideas of going down the same path.

"The first worms were implanted in Sakura only a few months after she became a Matou," said Shirou, "once the first set of invasive procedures that changed her eye and hair color were done."

"Okay," Rin said hoarsely. "I get the picture, Emiya-kun. What happened next ?"

"Now that I knew Sakura's situation, I couldn't let it continue. I spent the day recovering, and once I was ready, I went to the Matou residence. I tricked Shinji into opening the gate for me before forcing him to tell me where Sakura was."

"The Matou residence is-_was_ covered in Bounded Fields," Rin pointed out incredulously. "You shouldn't have been able to so much as step foot in it with hostile intentions without being turned to ash or worse."

"Very much worse," Shirou confirmed. "But ... let's say that I had a way around those and move on for now."

_Well,_ Rin thought, _that wasn't ominous at all_. It wasn't as if the wards around _her_ home were about the same quality as those that had protected the Matou estate, and which the son of a freelancer so feared the Association had bestowed upon him the name of "Magus Killer" had apparently breezed through without any problem. Not at all.

"I went into the basement, fighting a bunch of skeleton familiars along the way. From what I can tell, those were the remains of everyone Zouken had killed to prolong his life before."

"Hold on a minute," Rin interrupted him. "What do you mean, 'killed to prolong his life' ? I knew Zouken was using some Magecraft to extend his lifespan – that was pretty obvious, considering my family had records of him going over a century. But, what, was Zouken some sort of Dead Apostle ?"

"No, though I suppose it's possible he took some inspiration from them. Zouken ... Zouken wasn't human anymore, not by any definition. All that was left of him was a decaying soul in a body made of worms and stolen skin, clinging to life long after its time had come."

"After fighting my way through the skeletons, I reached the basement and found Zouken and Sakura." Again, he looked at Sakura – and again, she nodded, though not before taking Shirou's hand in her own.

"The basement was Zouken's Workshop," he began. "There, Sakura was in a pit full of worm familiars in the process of feeding on her by raping her repeatedly."

There was the sound of something breaking, and it took Rin a moment to realize that it was the cup of tea she had been holding. It had slipped from her fingers and smashed on the table.

Shirou leaned over the table, picking up his towel, and began to clean while Rin calmed herself. It took a while – both because Rin's control had been shattered, but also because Shirou had to do it carefully, since Sakura was still clinging to his right arm like it was a lifeline, face down, her eyes hidden behind her purple hair.

"Zouken and I exchanged words," he continued when he was done, the shards of the tea cup pushed to the side for now. Somehow, Rin doubted that conversation had been particularly polite. "And when I made it clear to him that I would _not_ leave without Sakura, he tried to kill me with his insect familiars. Shinji had followed me, and died during the confrontation."

"How did he die ?" Rin asked softly. She may have despised the arrogant teenager, but she hadn't wanted him to die.

"Zouken had some huge mosquito familiars in his Workshop, with stingers the size of daggers. When one of them lunged for me while Shinji was right behind me, I chose to dodge, knowing it would stab Shinji instead."

She blinked. Was he ... "You realize that's not your fault, right ?"

"I have already been made aware of that," he replied with the faint trace of a smile. That faded quickly as he went on : "Shinji's death caused Zouken to pause his attacks, though. It turned out the old monster had his descendant rape Sakura for years, in order to 'stabilize' her."

There went her moment of regret over the asshole's demise.

"That ... That bastard tried to ask me out," she choked out. "And all that time he was ... he was ..."

"Quite," agreed Shirou. "Still, I am not sure how much choice he had in the matter. Zouken was a master manipulator, and he would have had Shinji under his influence for his entire life. Regardless, with Shinji dead, Zouken offered _me_ to take his place as Sakura's 'partner'. I refused, obviously. Thinking back on it now, I am almost certain that he only offered because his soul had decayed to the point where he genuinely believed I would accept so long as he framed it as being the only choice that let both Sakura and I survive – no matter how disgusting the very idea."

"So you said no," Rin summed up. "And then ?"

"He took Sakura hostage to force me to comply to his wishes. In return, I destroyed him and purged Sakura of any trace of his Magecraft."

"... I am not sure which of the two is the most impressive. Are you secretly a Sorcerer, Emiya-kun ?"

God, she hoped he wasn't. If the Mage's Association learned that she had somehow missed the rise of a True Magic's user in her territory, the Tohsaka name would be ridiculed until the death of the sun.

"I am most definitely _not_," replied Shirou, making Rin both relieved and curious._ "_There were special circumstances at play, but these aren't relevant to our discussion. We can talk about this later."

"… Fine."

"After destroying Zouken, I set fire to his Workshop and carried Sakura out, with the fire somehow spreading to the entire estate. Once back home, I put Sakura to bed, applied some healing Mysteries I know, and ... well, I fell asleep. By that point, I was completely exhausted, physically, mentally and magically. But at least I had succeeded."

"Your father would be proud," idly noted Rin. "You are well on your way to succeeding him as the Magus Killer."

Shirou frowned. "The Magus Killer didn't raise me. I am the son of Kiritsugu Emiya, and he never intended for me to succeed him. Tohsaka … where did you hear that name ?"

"My guardian," she admitted. "Kirei Kotomine, the priest at Fuyuki. He is an Exorcist from the Church, dispatched here to oversee the Grail War after the previous overseer died in the last one. It was him who told me about what happened on Friday night."

"Was it ? … I would appreciate if you could keep what you tell him to a minimum. I don't want word of what happened to reach the Clocktower."

"We will see. Continue your story, Emiya-kun."

"… Fine. The next day, I called on my contacts among the local Yakuza -"

"Wait," cut off Rin. "Wait wait wait. _You_, Emiya-kun, have contacts with the _Yakuza _?!"

"Uh … Yeah. Fuji-nee is the granddaughter of the local Oyabun_._"

Rin blinked and looked to her left, where the woman in question was still snoring quietly, her sleep completely undisturbed by Rin's repeated outbursts.

"_This _woman," said Rin in a deadpan tone, "is the grandchild of a Yakuza boss ?"

"Yep," replied Shirou with a smile that told Rin he understood her doubts. She closed her eyes and counted silently to ten, before vowing to herself she wouldn't be surprised by anything else that she was told today. She doubted that vow would hold for long, but she could hope.

"Fine. _Fine. _So you called your Yakuza contacts … let me guess, that's how you got the investigation in the Matou residence's burning down swept under the rug and made sure Sakura could live with you ?"

"Got it in one. Of course, after that I had to convince _Fuji-nee _to allow it, but … it worked out."

"It 'worked out', he says," muttered Rin. "It's not as if you destroyed an entire Magus family's legacy and stole their last surviving member to take her under your wing, before pulling strings in the mundane world to conceal your tracks. All of that while breaking through an ancient family's wards, destroying an elder Magus that even Kirei didn't believe he could kill, and undoing the physical effects of years of … magical experiments upon another. Did I miss anything ?"

"Hmm … No, I don't think so."

_That was a rhetorical question, you moron, _Rin thought, her eyebrows twitching in irritation. She took a deep breath before saying out loud : "What did you do to Sakura exactly ?"

"I removed the worms and some of the other modifications Zouken had done on her body," explained Shirou, "before healing the accumulated damage. But as you can see, her eye and hair color remained the same. I am not sure whether that's because the cells responsible are already formed or because the alterations she underwent to make her compatible with the Matou Magecraft weren't erased. I guess we will know if they start reverting in the future ... though we could do a DNA test to check if you and her still register as sisters."

"She _is_ my sister," protested Rin, "whatever such a test might say."

Shirou raised an eyebrow. "Really ? Then why did you learn everything I just told you for the first time today ?"

She winced. So they were doing_ this_ now. She supposed there had been no avoiding it.

There was no way this discussion was going to go well.

"Did Sakura tell you _why_ she was adopted by the Matou ?" she asked.

"She did. And I personally find the concept of giving your own child away to simplify the question of inheritance revolting. Nevermind the fact that he _never checked up on her_ afterwards."

"The Tohsaka and Matou families were allies for generations," Rin protested, though her heart wasn't in it. How could it be, after what she had been told Sakura had endured ? "My father had no reason to think Sakura would be treated badly !"

"Your father was wrong," said Shirou, his voice as gentle as it was unyielding. "_Horribly _so."

"I know that now," she admitted. "But magi are secretive, even with their allies. My father truly believed that a clean separation between Sakura and us would be in the best interests for everyone involved. He thought it would be cruel to all of us if we remained in contact, at least until Sakura had integrated to the Matou family and we could meet as friends rather than sisters." She knew her voice was growing desperate as she continued : "If he had known what was happening, he would never have stood for it. He would have ripped the Matou mansion apart to punish Zouken !"

There was a moment of tense silence, then Shirou sighed, and the tension in the room relaxed - _slightly._

"Regardless of what your father _would_ have done, it is a fact that the root of Sakura's torment lies in what he _did_. And that right there, Tohsaka, is why I refuse to consider myself a magus. The moment you put your family' honor and legacy over your own children, you have already gone too far."

Rin didn't say anything. What could she say ? She agreed with Shirou, even if it went against a Magus' thinking. Her father's decision to send Sakura to the Matou hadn't just cost her her sister : when Tokiomi had died, the combined grief of his death and the loss of her youngest daughter had ended up costing her her mother too. Following the path decreed by a Magus' path had destroyed their family, and for what ? It wasn't as if they had gotten any closer to the Root in exchange.

But if she couldn't justify her father's actions, she could at least explain her own.

"After Father died and Mom ... faded away," Rin said slowly, "I was Kirei's ward, because he had been my father's apprentice. He was the one to finish my training in Magecraft. By the time I completed my training and became independent in the eyes of the Moonlit World, I ..." S

he forced herself to swallow her saliva before continuing :

"I thought Sakura was better off without me," she whispered.

She laughed, the sound bitter and hollow even to her own ears. "Emiya-kun is right, Sakura. My - our family put its honor and its Magecraft over its own daughter. How messed up is that ? The Matou had lost their ability to perform Magecraft over the generations, but at least _they_ never threw aside one of their own."

"I am a prodigy," she said without arrogance – it was true, after all. "An Average One, capable of wielding all five basic elements. I have forty innate Magic Circuits of high quality, and according to Kirei I can wield the additional thirty of the Tohsaka Crest better than anyone before me."

"All of that," she continued dejectedly, "and it didn't bring me a single moment of happiness. I … I didn't want to bring you into that, Sakura. I knew your life with the Matou wasn't perfect – everyone could see that Shinji was a jerk to you even more than to everyone else. But at least when you were with Emiya-kun, you looked genuinely happy. I didn't want to risk ruining that."

"Nee-san …"

For a long time, Shirou stared at Rin, his expression unreadable. Then, he nodded to himself, and Rin felt as if she had passed some sort of test she hadn't been aware of.

"I told Sakura that I wouldn't stop the two of you from trying to reconnect with each other," he said. "I understand that you were just a child when you were separated, and I don't blame you for that, Tohsaka."

"T-thank you, Emiya-kun. And … and you, Sakura ? I … I understand if you hate me …"

"I don't," replied Sakura immediately in soft voice. "I … I did, sometimes, but … not anymore."

"… Okay," Rin breathed out. "Okay."

There was another moment of silence. Shirou deftly filled in the empty cup he had laid for Fujimura-sensei before she had fallen asleep and pushed it in front of Rin. She gratefully picked it up, breathing in the scent before drinking it slowly, letting it relax her. Only once she had drained the cup did she feel confident to speak up again :

"There is still the matter of you living in my territory without my permission, Emiya-kun. Even if I was willing to give you a pass on account of your father's history – and I am – I _know _you are here now, and that gives both you and I certain obligations. And yes, those obligations exist even if you aren't affiliated with the Association. Your actions to help Sakura are noble, but there are still rules, and we would _all _be in trouble if we do not follow them."

"I know. I prepared for that when Sakura confirmed to me that you were the Second Owner. I was relieved – I knew you were a reasonable person. If it had been another Magus, I may have had to … escalate matters. Give me a minute, I need to go and get something."

He stood up, and with a last glance at Sakura, turned and left the room, leaving the two sisters sat alone with the sleeping teachers in awkward silence.

"Sakura," Rin asked tentatively, "are you okay with Emiya-kun's plan ?"

She didn't dare to voice the other option – that Sakura could live with _her _instead. It would have been … wrong of her to suggest that.

"I love Senpai," the younger girl replied. "He saved me, Nee-san. I … I want to live with him."

"I understand," Rin whispered back. "That's fine."

They remained silent until Shirou returned less than two minutes later, carrying a leather suitcase. He put it down on the table and turned it toward Rin before clicking it open and revealing its contents, while Sakura leant over the table curiously.

Rin choked, while Sakura's eyes widened. The suitcase was full of neatly-stacked 5000 Yen bank notes, the faces on the bills unblinkingly staring back at her.

"How ... how much is that ?" she managed to ask.

"A hundred million yens," replied Shirou mildly. Rin swayed where she sat. That was … that was a lot of money. Not nearly enough to turn around her family's fortunes – the Tohsaka had been _rich _before Kirei had bled their finances almost dry with his incompetence – but years of carefully managing her budget to be able to practice her family's craft meant that she understood the value of money far better than most magi from a bloodline as well established as her own would.

"Alright," replied Rin, shaking her head to clear her mind. "Alright. This is ... this is enough to cover the rent you owe me, plus interest. As for future rent, I ... I need to think on it and consult some references. I will call you when I have reached a decision."

"S-senpai," asked Sakura, looking about as surprised as Rin at the amount of money her crush had so casually handed over. "Where did you get that much money from ?"

"Dad left a few suitcases like this one to me," answered Shirou nonchalantly, "for emergency situations. The rest are scattered in secure locations across the country, just in case."

"So it it's blood money you inherited from the Magus Killer," sighed Rin. "Just … perfect. No matter, I can still use it. It's not as if the Association is keeping a close eye on my finances : I can always pretend it's something _my _father left me and I just found out about if Kirei starts asking questions. That takes care of one issue. But we are going to have a problem once Sakura goes back to school, though."

"Hmm ? Why ?"

"The story we are going with is that she lost her brother and grandfather in a tragic accident," Rin pointed out, before gesturing at Sakura. "But she doesn't exactly look heartbroken, does she ? People are going to notice when she comes back with a beaming smile, especially considering ... well ... considering she didn't smile much before."

Shirou blinked. "I ... didn't even think about that. Thanks, Tohsaka. Do you have any idea how to solve that issue ?"

"We can put up a Bounded Field around the school," Rin thought out loud. "Something minor, just enough that no one thinks Sakura's behavior is strange."

"I don't like manipulating the minds of our classmates," Shirou frowned, "but in that case I suppose it's for the best. Thank you, Tohsaka. How can I help you set it up ?"

"Huh ? Oh, don't worry about that. Sakura, you've got a week off for grief leave, right ?" When the purple-haired girl nodded, Rin continued : "I will have the materials ready by the end of next week. You," she turned to Shirou, "can come help me set them up in the week-end."

"Alright," Shirou nodded. For the first time since Fujimura-sensei had been put to sleep, his face split in a warm, honest smile that caused butterflies in Rin's stomach. "Thank you, Tohsaka."

"Senpai," Sakura pouted - _pouted_ ! Rin had _never_ seen her do that - "please don't seduce my sister."

"W-w-w-w-w-what are you talking about, Sakura ?! S-s-s-seduce me ?! That oaf ?!"

Sakura blinked at Rin's outburst. Her pout vanished, replaced by a thoughtful expression, and then by a small, sly smile that made Rin very, very nervous. Then, right before Rin's eyes, Sakura pulled Shirou in a passionate, steaming kiss. Her jaw fell, and she watched.

And kept watching.

And kept watching ...

After half a minute had passed, Sakura finally parted her lips from Shirou's, turning to face Rin with a grin on her face. Through her shock, Rin still noticed that her sister was very, very red – apparently she was still embarrassed by what she had done.

"There," Sakura said. "I feel this makes some things clear, doesn't it Nee-san ?"

"Uhm, Sakura. Are you and Emiya-kun ... uuh ..."

"I am Senpai's lover," confirmed Sakura, still leaning against Shirou's chest. She was still smiling as she looked at Rin, looking like the cat who caught the canary after the canary had bathed naked in cream - and Rin thought she had lost her metaphor somewhere, but it didn't matter, because WHAT ?

… And there went her vow not to be surprised by anything else she learned here today.

"S-since when ?!"

"Since last night," said Shirou, who at least had the good grace of looking embarrassed as well. "Sakura and I talked about some things, and, well ..."

"I can imagine," Rin quickly interrupted, before he could go into details. "I knew Sakura had a crush on you, but still ..."

"You did ?" blinked Shirou.

Rin stared at him. "Of course I did," she deadpanned. "Everyone who looked at the two of you did."

"They did ?"

… That moron had had no idea Sakura was in love with him until yesterday, didn't he ? That … that actually explained a lot. If he hadn't noticed Sakura's affection when it had been _painfully _obvious the younger girl was crushing on him, then of course he wouldn't have noticed -

"Tohsaka. Tohsaka. RIN !"

"Huh ?!"

Shirou sighed. "Good, you are back with us. There is one last thing I need to talk to you about."

"A-alright," she coughed. "What is it about ?"

"When I confronted Zouken, he mentioned something about an 'Einzbern girl'. He seemed to think I would recognize the name for some reason, and that it would be important enough to me that I would be willing to let Sakura's torture continue."

Rin blinked. "Einzbern ? Let's see … The Einzbern are one of the three families that created the system behind the Grail Wars. Kirei told me that your father was their representative in the last War. Apart from that … they specialize in creating homunculi – artificial humans grown specifically to perform certain tasks for the family. I think they have a castle somewhere in Germany, but they are said to be _very _reclusive, even by magi standards – and _obscenely _wealthy."

"I see," mused Shirou. "Do you think you could investigate what Zouken could have meant ? Specifically, if Dad had any special relationship with a member of their family ?"

"Sure," agreed Rin, "I can ask some questions, but it will likely take some bribes to loosen tongues."

"I will reimburse any costs you face," Shirou waved away her barely-concealed attempt at moneying her services while Sakura sent a_ look_ in Rin's direction that told her she had caught on to what she was trying to do. What ? Gemcraft was _expensive _!

They spent some more time discussing the details of the story Rin would give to Kirei, before the conversation turned to Sakura's Magecraft training. The younger girl had been given some training in the Matou craft, but with the destruction of the family's library, all their secrets were lost. And while none of them had any intent of replicating Zouken's abominations, the Matou _had_ been genuine practitioners before Zouken, in his madness, had despoiled their legacy. Rin left the Emiya household relieved, and a lot happier than she had been before.

There was still a rift between her and Sakura, but that was to be expected. Years of neglect could not be so easily erased, no matter the reasons behind them.

Now all she had to do was convince Kirei not to do anything stupid …

* * *

"I see. If you think this is for the best, then I will trust in your decision. Goodbye, Rin."

Kirei Kotomine put the phone down, pensive. He walked out of the room where he had taken the call and into the church's nave, looking up at the altar without really seeing it.

He felt his pulse would have quickened, had he still possessed a heart. But the dark miracle that kept him alive did not extend that far.

'_The death of Zouken and Shinji Matou was the result of a disagreement between the former and Shirou Emiya that escalated into open conflict,' _the teenage girl had told him_. 'Though Emiya killed a magus on my territory, considering the circumstances, I have decided not to punish him for that. In addition, I have recognized Shirou Emiya, sixth head of the House of Emiya, as an independent __practitioner__ of Magecraft and reached an accord with him to continue to grant him permission to live in my territory. Sakura Matou is now his apprentice : the House of Matou is formally extinct.'_

It had been clever of her, he had to admit. By acknowledging the Emiya boy that way, he now fell, however indirectly, under the purview of the accords binding the Church to the Clocktower. While the protection this offered was slight, it did mean Kirei couldn't simply kill him without due cause.

And to declare the House of Matou extinct … If word got out, it would cause waves within the magi community. The Matou were an old name, one of the few existing this far east. There were still those in the West who remembered them – back when they had been the Makiri, before their journey to Japan. Old families tended to frown on one of their own disappearing.

And with the Emiya name being involved … Kirei was tempted to discretely arrange for the information to reach certain ears at the Clocktower, if only to watch the fallout as the son of the Magus Killer emerged from obscurity to kill the head of an ancient family and claim their sole remaining heir as his apprentice. The first assassin would be on his way before the end of the week.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, Kirei."

The priest turned to where a young man was seated amidst the church's pews. Golden hair fell on a handsome face in which were set two sharp eyes red like rubies. His knowing smile revealed pearly white teeth, and despite the cold outside he was wearing an open vest under which laid a deceptively-simple looking white shirt. In actuality, every piece of cloth the young man wore was worth more than the average monthly salary of a Japanese office worker. Kirei knew this, because he had been the one to purchase them when the golden-haired man had grudgingly accepted he couldn't walk the streets of Fuyuki clad in his usual garments – but he had insisted on wearing the finest clothes of this era, even if he had still complained that they were _far _beneath his standards.

Considering that those standards were those of the King of Heroes, whose reign had presided over the decline of the Age of Gods in ancient Babylonia, it was only to be expected, really. It had taken some very creative book-keeping to hide the expense to Kirei's superiors in the Church. But it was a small enough price to pay to keep himself in the Servant's good books, and it wasn't as if it were _his _money he had spent. After all, Archer had been summoned by the Tohsaka Head, so didn't it make sense that it would be that family's finances that would support him ?

"I suppose I am," the priest admitted. "After the end of the War, we both believed we would have to endure the boredom until the Grail was ready once more. I am … pleased that circumstances allow me to amuse myself early."

It had been ludicrously easy to goad Rin into visiting the Emiya boy. The girl was smart, of that there was no doubt, but she was also very direct, lacking in the subtlety necessary to see through his blatant manipulation. Between her pride in her skills and her love for her sister – and oh, how he had enjoyed _that _particular tragedy when he had uncovered it – there had been no doubt that she would go to Emiya guns blazing, ready to strike down anyone who threatened the sibling she had abandoned for so long.

Though the two teenagers had come to an accord, Kirei didn't doubt Rin had left out a lot out of her terse report to him.

"It is surprising that things ended peacefully, I admit" he said, "and a bit disappointing. But the rapprochement between Rin and the Emiya boy and her sister offers new opportunities."

"Oh ?" Gilgamesh of Uruk smiled, inviting him to go on.

"Zouken's destruction is a boon to our aims," continued the priest. "His knowledge of the Grail was greater than any safe those of the Einzbern, and he was much closer to it than they. I have no doubt that he had a plan to claim the Grail for himself in the next War, and though I do not doubt you could have destroyed him easily, his interference may still have ruined everything we desire."

"The worm _was _an obstacle," the King of Heroes conceded. "Not an unsurmountable one, of course."

"Of course," Kirei agreed, knowing better than to suggest otherwise.

"There are less than two years left before the beginning of the next Grail War," he mused aloud. "And already the pieces are starting to move. It is almost guaranteed that all three of them will be selected as Masters when the time come."

"If the boy is anything like his father – and given that he killed Zouken and took in the girl, he likely is – then he will stand against us in the future." Gilgamesh didn't sound worried at the possibility. He was only mentioning it to see what Kirei thought of it.

"Shirou Emiya survived the flames of the last War," Kirei pointed out. "That alone, if nothing else, would be enough to make him of interest in our plans. Only four of those who were caught in the immediate surroundings of the Grail survived the Fuyuki Fire, King of Heroes. You, me, Kiritsugu Emiya, and that boy. I do not believe it to be a coincidence that he lived where so many others did not. It was by the will of the Grail that the two of us survived and were granted new life. And it was the curse of the Grail that kept Kiritsugu Emiya from perishing so that he may witness the ruin of all he fought for, before dying slowly and painfully."

The memory of his nemesis' doom brought another smile to Kirei's lips. He had never hated a man as much as he had hated the Magus Killer, who had been granted communion with the Grail and had turned his back on it. It had been a joy to watch him wander amidst the ruins in the aftermath, broken and hollow-eyed. Maybe he should have kept a closer eye on him afterwards : then the events of the last few days wouldn't have taken him so much by surprise. But it had been difficult to think of the ruined husk that Kiritsugu Emiya had become after the Fourth Grail War as any kind of threat, and there had been much he had needed to do to ensure that the next Grail War succeeded. It had been all he could do to ensure that Kiritsugu Emiya was thought dead by both Church and Association, to ensure that none could interfere with the punishment the Grail had bestowed upon the Magus Killer.

"But the boy did not have any of these connections to the Grail," he continued, returning to the matter at hand, "and yet he survived long enough for the Magus Killer to find him and, according to his old medical records, heal him using that regeneration trick he showed me during the War."

Getting access to the medical records hadn't been difficult, but Kirei had needed to be discreet. He didn't want to draw the attention of those responsible for greasing the wheels of bureaucracy in the boy's favor. The child's miraculous recovery was only partially documented, however, with a note attached mentioning that the initial diagnosis must have been erroneous due to the hospital being overwhelmed with patients. It was a believable excuse : while only the aforementioned four had survived direct exposure to the Grail's flames, the destruction had spread much further, and there had been plenty who had been indirectly wounded.

But Kirei was no fool, and he could see that this was just Kiritsugu Emiya covering his own tracks and preserving the secrecy of Magecraft. In the wake of the Fourth War's disastrous ending, the Association and the Church had both had their eyes on the city. The miraculous healing of a child who had been so close to the calamity would have drawn their attention, even with Kirei working tirelessly to keep the truth under wraps.

Kirei returned his gaze to the altar, and the icon above it. It had been a long time since he had actually held any faith in the precepts of the Church, even if he continued to dutifully deliver Mass every week. He had done so just this morning – that was part of the reason why he had called Rin so late, despite learning all he had told her the previous day. When he had called her on Saturday evening, she hadn't answered, doubtlessly locked away in that heavily-warded Workshop of hers.

"And now, that child who was spared from the flames took care of one of the few remaining threats to our ultimate goal," said the priest – for despite Rin's insults, he was still a priest at heart : only the focus of that faith had changed. "Do you not see the hand of providence in that, oh King ?"

"_We _are the chosen of the Grail, Kirei," said Gilgamesh, a slight frown the only sign of his rising temper. "_We_ witnessed its glory, and were spared its wrath. _We _are the ones who will bring about the new Age. That boy may be a tool of the Grail, and there might be some irony in one Emiya helping undo the sin of another, but I refuse to have him stand alongside us."

_Ah, _thought Kirei. _Of course. _While the priest despised Kiritsugu Emiya, that hatred paled in comparison to the contempt in which the King of Heroes held the Magus Killer.

"I won't go forth and destroy the boy," Gilgamesh waved off, and Kirei allowed himself a quiet sigh of relief. "When the Grail War begins anew, if he is chosen as Master, then he will have the opportunity to show his mettle and his allegiance. But in the end, once our goal is achieved, if I find him wanting, I shall destroy him and purge the last trace of the Emiya name from this world."

"As you wish, oh King," replied Kirei, turning to bow to the Archer Servant of the Fourth Grail War. On his arm, the Command Seals he had plundered from his father's corpse tingled slightly – a reminder of the connection between him and the Servant with which he had bounded after the death of Tokiomi Tohsaka. That bond was the only thing keeping him alive since the War, forcing his body to persist even after Kiritsugu Emiya had destroyed his heart.

After all, a Servant required a Master to exist, even if the dynamic between them was reversed. Without Kirei to serve as his anchor, Gilgamesh would vanish eventually, either by running out of prana to maintain his body or by catching the attention of Gaia and being erased as an anomaly. Even an Archer-class Servant with the skill Independent Action wouldn't be able to last long – a few days, perhaps, but not nearly enough to wait for the beginning of the next Grail War.

And so the Grail, after bathing the King of Heroes in its dark waters and judging him worthy, had dragged Kirei back from the dead. While the priest was nowhere near powerful enough a magus to sustain a Servant on his own, the Grail's destruction had ensured that its reserves of magical energy were still mostly untouched, and through Kirei's Command Seals the Greater Grail could fuel Gilgamesh's needs. So long as the King of Heroes refrained from using his most prana-consuming abilities, the drain on these reserves would stay minor, and the next Grail War wouldn't be delayed.

Kirei wasn't quite sure what the mechanics of this resurrection were : he hadn't aged a day in ten years, but he still needed food, water and rest. It wasn't like he could ask a Magus to examine his body for answers, let alone one of the Church's scholars. His colleagues would have him purged the moment they realized what had happened to him.

And Kirei could not afford to die, or to lose his position as the Church's representative in Fuyuki and future Overseer of the Grail War. How was he supposed to help the Grail reach completion and bring about the reign of Chaos upon this world otherwise ?

And he also had to make sure Archer didn't wander off and draw the attention of one of the Moonlit World's powers. For all his immense strength, Gilgamesh was _not _invincible, though Kirei was very careful never to say that in the King's presence. If the Church or the Mage's Association learned of his ongoing existence, they would stop at _nothing _to destroy him and dismantle the Grail System. Fortunately, the connection between Kirei and Gilgamesh meant that the later was more or less forced to remain within Fuyuki so long as the priest did the same.

All in all, it was an exhausting but necessary task. It wasn't as if he could summon Gilgamesh again if the King of Heroes faded away. After all, even had Tokiomi's catalyst not been lost, the fossilised snake skin destroyed during Kirei's former master's summoning ritual ...

... it was difficult to summon a Servant whose Spirit Origin had been torn from the Throne of Heroes.

* * *

AN : DUN DUN DUUUUN !

Hello, everyone ! This story had a lot more success than I anticipated (thanks you all for your support) so I started working on this chapter almost as soon as the first ones were up. It still took a while, mostly because of unrelated IRL issues that have taken up a lot of my time in the last few weeks. Also, writing dialogue between teenagers is _still _a challenge. I am somewhat concerned that writing the exchange between Kirei and Gilgamesh at the end was much, _much _easier for me. Hopefully that aspect of my writing gets better as this story progresses.

Speaking of that last scene, as you have likely noticed, three things are different from F/SN canon. First, Gilgamesh isn't incarnated as a flesh-and-blood human. That's for story reasons : I need him to still be a Servant, and so he is one. Secondly, Kirei is a cultist of Chaos. I trust that I don't need to explain that one - just look at how he behaves in canon. For all intents of purpose, he already _was _a servant of the Primordial Annihilator, he just didn't call it that.

And thirdly, that reveal at the end. I am sure a lot of fans of the Fate franchise will want to point out that this last reveal is a blatant contradiction of some piece of established lore. Again, this is an AU. The mechanics of the universe may look like those of the Fate franchise, but what lies underneath has been altered as required by the needs of both crossover and story.

Also, in this chapter, the narration from Rin's POV saying "Shirou" while she says "Emiya-kun" out loud isn't a mistake. It is very much deliberate. Yes, I know, it isn't exactly subtle storytelling to point that out, but I _am_ new to that kind of story.

What else ... Oh, here are some of the questions I had to search answers to while writing this chapter :

_How many bills can fit in a suitcase ?_ (Believe it or not, there is an equation for that on the corresponding TV Tropes page)

_What denominations of bills were in use in Japan, 2002 ? _(Wikipedia held all the answers, as is often the case)

_When did genetic testing become able to tell if two individuals were siblings ?_ (By 2002, paternity tests were possible, so I am assuming sibling-testing should also be possible)

So yeah, Google's all-seeing algorithm must be pretty confused right now.

There were some questions about the vision from the beginning of the last chapter. Someone asked if this was my attempt to bring up the possibility of female Space Marines, so I think I should point you in the correct direction. Search for the name of the child on the Web and you will find the path to the answers you seek.

More details about Shirou's mysterious nature will be revealed in the next chapters. This chapter was the last one where I knew what would be inside from the moment I actually started writing this fic - after that, I have only a few fixed points to guide me to the start of the Grail War. _That _is already much more detailed in my notes, but as another author of Warhammer fiction once said : _"such a tale requires context"._

As always, I look forward to your feedback. Writing this story is a lot of fun, especially after I watched the entire Fate/Zero series for reference purposes. Gods, but the canon Fate universe is a cruel and sinister place. That parade of tragedies certainly reinforced my motivation to create at least _one _timeline where our heroes can be happy.

On the romance side of things : I couldn't find a way to add Rin to Shirou's harem this soon (I mean, come on, the two of them have only _just _actually met one another as the people they really are). But I _do _have a plan to get that done before the start of the Grail War, two years from now story-time. The details still need ironing out, however.

Zahariel out.


	6. Chapter 5

_In a room full of shadows and the echoes of ancient whispers, he kneels before a throne and the king sat upon it. His blade is held before him, its point failing to bite into the complex mosaics that cover the floor. In this most hallowed of chambers, screams and prayers coil around knight and king alike, and he can see them with eyes that have long since stopped seeing only matter. Yet even those eyes can be blind in some ways …  
__F__or t__he king, __the great and mighty monarch to whom he owes fealty,__ is wounded. Blood drips slowly from __a__ great rent __in his armor and the__ flesh-__that-is-not-flesh __beneath__. He sees this, but __at the same time__ does not see it. His eyes perceive it, but his mind fails to register __t__he meaning of the sight, fails to process the truth of it and its implications__. __There is something within him that refuses to accept it.  
__T__he king speaks in a voice that is not a voice, just like his flesh is not __merely__ flesh and the throne isn't __just __a throne. __He does not give orders to the knight, for that is not the king's way __anymore__. __Instead, the king speaks of many things – of the troubles of his realm, of enemies unnamed but not unknown.  
__He speaks of traitors, hiding in the shadows of the empire, who must be brought to judgement. He speaks of a prideful dragon, who in its greed covets the king's treasures.__ Of a __warlord__ in his garden, cultivating the end of all things __with rusted hands__. Of a __deceiver__ with a thousand faces, weaving lies and intrigue to a purpose beyond the king's reckoning. __Of a __tomb within __which rests the traitor who rejected the divine Word. __Of __a__ thief who stole __a __noble daughter__ from her halfling brothers.  
__T__he king speaks and speaks, and every word becomes another link in the chain around __the knight's__ neck. __Finally, it ends, and the king says :  
_**"**_**You know what to do."**  
__And he does._

* * *

**_J__u__ly __4__th__, __2003 AD – Emiya residence_**

Shirou's eyes snapped open.

This … this had been different. It hadn't been a true dream, of that he was certain. There was a marked difference between those and the strange visions that had continued to haunt his sleep from time to time since he had used that unknown power to save Sakura seven months ago. He no longer dreamt only of the mist-filled forest and the monsters that stalked it. Instead, he saw other things – visions of a fortress of stone, of armors and weapons of strange designs, of oaths spoken in an unknown language echoing in vast chambers.

The truly annoying part of these visions was that, just like normal dreams, they made perfect sense while he was having them. But while he remembered them perfectly when waking, the _context _was utterly lost, and without it they made precious little sense. He _knew _what the forest was when he dreamt of it, he was sure of it, just like he knew the fortress' name and the meaning of the oaths.

And yet, while he was confident this dream had been one such vision, there was no denying that it had been unlike any that had come before. In a way, it had been _more _like an actual dream – like what had happened hadn't been entirely anchored in reality. The only way he could really describe it would be … disturbing. Even if investigating the source of that mysterious power was important to him, he felt he wouldn't mind if he never had another vision like that one.

He felt the warmth of Sakura next to him as she snuggled closer to him, still sleeping peacefully. Slowly, her presence drew his thoughts away from the gloom his vision had brought on him. It always did, whenever he woke up frustrated by the strange dreams and his lack of understanding.

Since the two of them had started living together five months ago, they had spent almost every night together. They did not always have sex, of course. Neither of them were ready to be parents yet, and discreet medical exams had revealed that Sakura's womb, which she had told Shirou had been ruined by the Crest Worms, had been fully regenerated by the traced copy of Avalon Shirou had put inside of her after rescuing her.

They had made sure to erase the memories of the medical professionals who had performed the exams, as well as to destroy all blood and tissue samples that had been taken. Both of them knew that leaving such things where an enemy magus could easily obtain them would be the height of foolishness. It was the same reasoning of "better safe than sorry" that had led to them hiding Shirou's Tracing of Avalon from Rin.

The other abilities Shirou had used when rescuing Sakura remained beyond him, but after a few weeks of trial and error, he had managed to trace Avalon again. The copies didn't last long before fading away, but they still worked to heal injuries as long as Shirou poured enough prana inside them.

While they didn't believe Rin would betray them for their secrets like many magi would, it was better to limit any chance of that information spreading. Sakura had confirmed what Shirou's dad had told him : magi as a whole were _not _moral people, and if the Clocktower learned that Shirou was capable of creating copies of a Noble Phantasm – even imperfect and temporary ones – he would end up on a dissection table faster than he could blink.

And it wasn't as if Rin was sharing all of her own Magecraft with them, after all.

With a cute yawn, Sakura stirred awake. She looked at him with half-open eyes and smiled, the sight of it never failing to make him smile back.

"Good morning, Sakura."

"Good morning, Senpai."

Later, as the two of them ate breakfast in comfortable silence – for once, Fuji-nee hadn't shown up to mooch off, being busy with an early staff meeting – Shirou spoke up :

"It's Friday. Fuji-nee is expecting my answer today."

It was slight. Anyone else might have missed it. But Shirou saw Sakura's hands tremble. Putting down what he had been doing, he moved next to her and took her hands into his.

"It would only be for a few days, Sakura. The tournament is in Kumamoto, so the team will leave on Monday and come back on Thursday."

"I know," she whispered. "Is … is that archery tournament so important to you ?"

"No," replied Shirou without hesitation. "If you don't feel up to it – if you don't want me to – then I won't go, Sakura. I don't care much about the tournament beyond the opportunity to observe the technique of others. But it has been seven months, Sakura. I swore I would never abandon you, but I don't want you to be shackled to me either. I feel that this is an opportunity for you to see how far you have come." He smiled at her. "You are stronger than you think you are, Sakura. But in the end, it's your choice."

"I … I will be fine. Maybe Nee-san could come visit while you aren't here ? The two of us could even have a sleepover," she smiled again at the idea, and Shirou felt the weight of guilt lifting off his shoulders. Every word he had spoken to Sakura was true – since revealing to her that he was a Magecraft user, he had never lied to her, not once, even by omission. But seeing her in distress, even if it was for her own good … That was something far worse than any nightmare.

"That's a good idea. I will talk to her about it when I see her today. I trust you won't tease her too much while I am away ?"

"Come on, Senpai," Sakura laughed softly, starting to eat again. Shirou joined her, keeping an eye on her throughout the meal.

He would probably have to warn Rin, though. Just in case. Sakura's teasing of her sister had grown increasingly more daring since the two of them had reconciled. Part of him dreaded what he would find when coming back from the competition.

* * *

After finishing breakfast and cleaning up, Shirou and Sakura went to school together, parting only when they had arrived at the gate of Homurahara Academy, with Sakura going to the middle-school building and Shirou to the high-school one. While Shirou was expected at the Archery Dojo, it was Sakura's turn to prepare the classroom for the day. Not that she didn't accompany Shirou to school when it wasn't : on those occasions, she simply followed Shirou to the Archery Dojo, watching him practice while providing assistance to the other members. Everyone in the club knew and liked the young girl, who was determined to join the club herself next year.

After changing into his practice uniform and greeting his clubmates, Shirou approached the only adult in the room, who stood in a corner of the archery range, checking its inventory.

In many ways, Souichirou Kuzuki resembled the monks among whom he lived in the temple on Mount Enzou. Except for his face, which, try as he might, Shirou couldn't help but think would have been more fitting of a Yakuza than a teacher. The man's detached attitude had worried Shirou at first – he had wondered if Kuzuki-sensei wasn't a magus, given the level of self-control he displayed at all times. But a few discreet scans with his eyes, combined with a couple of visits to Issei's home to check that there wasn't anything strange going on in Ryuudou Temple, had put that suspicion to rest. Kuzuki-sensei was someone with a strong body and mind, but wasn't related to the Moonlit World in any way.

"Good morning, Kuzuki-sensei," Shirou called out. The teacher lifted his gaze from the list he had been reading. "Is the staff meeting over ?"

"Good morning, Emiya-kun. No, but I wasn't needed for it and thought I would check the club has everything it needs for the competition. Tell me, have you come to a decision yet ?"

"Yes, sensei. I will tell Fujimura-sensei when I see her. I intend to participate in the Kumamoto high school archery competition."

The teacher didn't smile – Shirou didn't think he had ever seenthe man smile. He simply nodded slightly.

"Good. It would be a shame for someone of your talent to miss out on an opportunity like that. You and Mitsuzuri-kun will be our representatives for the first year." Kuzuki frowned. "Will Matou-kun be fine in your absence ?"

The Bounded Field Rin had put around the school to prevent people from noticing any oddity in Sakura's change of behavior and living with Shirou were still in place. Even so, while no one thought it _strange _that Sakura and Shirou lived together, they still knew it was the case, and only someone blind could miss that the two of them were very close.

"She says so," replied Shirou. "We are going to ask Tohsaka-san to visit her while I am gone. The two of them are good friends, and since Tohsaka-san also lives alone …"

"That would be for the best. Matou-kun has recovered well from the tragedy that struck her family, but you are right to make sure she isn't left on her own."

Shirou nodded his agreement, then parted with the teacher to go to the shooting range. As he drew his bow, someone came to stand next to him.

"So you finally decided, huh ?"

The girl to his right was wearing the same uniform as he, and holding an identical bow as she aimed at her own target. Light brown hair fell to her neck, cut so as not to hinder her vision without needing to tie it back.

"I did," replied Shirou, taking in her presence in his peripheral vision, his eyes kept locked onto the target. "Looks like we will both be representing the first years in the tournament, Mitsuzuri."

"Good. It wouldn't make sense for someone else to accompany me. But _I _will be the one to bring the trophy home, Emiya."

Shirou smiled silently. He had been told by Issei that his relationship with Ayako Mitsuzuri could be best summed up as "one-sided rivalry". He was better than her with the bow – he knew it, she knew it, the entire club knew it. In truth, he was better than anyone, even the members in the upper years. He did not take pride in that : his practice of Magecraft, while not technically cheating, still gave him a great advantage when it came to focus and motor control.

But while the rest of the club members had given up on surpassing him, Ayako had not. She was determined to be better than him one day, and her skill had increased by leaps and bounds since the beginning of the school year. Whereas Shirou's own skills had stagnated – there was only so much that could be done to improve once you reached one-hundred per cent accuracy.

It was still worth going to the club, if only for the exercise and the company. After their first few weeks of living together, Sakura had started to badger him about spending more time with other people, just as he had tried to get her to interact more with her own classmates. Pushed by mutual worry for one another, the two of them had forced each other to socialize more. Sakura was a lot better at it than him, but that was fine.

All of this was fine, thought Shirou as he let loose his arrow, watching as it flew and hit the bullseye – exactly as he had intended. This life wasn't the one he had envisioned for himself one year ago, but it was … better. Yes. Definitively better.

* * *

"Heya, kiddo."

Shirou would have liked to say that Kamido looked out of place in the Copenhagen, but that would have been a lie. The bar may have been somewhat high-end, but it still drew individuals from all ways of life, their sole commonality the fact that they enjoyed good snacks and having a drink in peace. Not that Shirou had anything to do with the place's alcohol reserves, of course. That was his story and he was sticking to it, come high water or Fuji-nee's wrath.

No, the Yakuza fitted right in with his trademark impeccable white suit as he walked through the front door and went straight for the bar, where Shirou was cleaning the last round of glasses Neko-san had brought back from the tables.

"Hello, Kamido-san," he greeted the man, hands not stopping their cleaning motions.

"Gotta say, I am surprised you are still working here. What does the missus think of you being here ?"

"Sakura is fine," replied Shirou, not even bothering to comment on the older man's choice of words. "She cooks dinner for the two of us on the evenings I work here."

"So when you go home, your wife will be waiting with her cooking ready," smirked the Yakuza. "I am jealous."

Shirou sighed. The Bounded Field to prevent people from questioning Sakura's circumstances was only around the school : Kamido had been told the truth of the situation by Raiga, or at least as much of the truth as the Oyabun himself knew. "Will you order something, or are you just here to tease me ?"

"I will have a beer, thank you. And no, I am not here for that. Well, not _just _for that."

His tone changed, becoming quieter and more serious. "I hear that you are leaving town in a few days, kiddo. Going to the Prefecture capital for a sports competition, right ?"

"Archery," agreed Shirou. "The school is sending me and a few others to participate."

"I pity the poor fools who are gonna end up facing off against you, then. But the boss was wondering if, while you are there, you could do us a favour."

"That would depend on what kind of favour it is," cautiously answered Shirou.

"Nothing bad or too serious," quickly reassured Kamido. "We have a friend in Kumamoto who hasn't been answering our calls or letters in a while. I checked on your tournament, and it turns out it takes place in the same area he lives in. Could you check on him, make sure he is okay ?"

Shirou thought on it while preparing Kamido's beer and serving it to the Yakuza. On the one hand, he had hoped that the tension with Sakura would be all the drama associated with the competition – minus actually participating in it, of course. But on the other hand, it did sound quite simple, and someone might be in danger – one did not stop answering to the Fujimura Group's contacts without a good reason.

"… Fine. I will check. Where should I go, and who should I look for ?"

"Good !" smiled Kamido, before handing Shirou a folded photography on the back of which were written a name and address, as well as a sealed, unmarked envelope. "Oh, and if you find him, please give him that letter."

"Kamido-san. I hope this isn't a trick to use me as a glorified carrier ?"

"Of course not ! That envelope only contains paper, I promise. There is a chance he hasn't replied to our letters because they got _'lost_' in the post, so this will help get him up to speed on recent events."

The Yakuza drank his beer, emptying the tall glass in a single prolonged gulp before putting it down along with some change and leaving the bar with a last wave toward Shirou. With another sigh, Shirou put the cash in the register and began to clean the glass.

"Shirou-kun," said Hotaruzuka-san, the Copenhagen's owner and Neko-san's father. "What did that _gentleman _want with you ?"

The man's tone made it clear that he knew, or at least suspected, Kamido's criminal activities. Whether that was because of his own connections to the underworld or because Kamido was, well, _Kamido_ – and thus not trying very hard to blend in – Shirou did not know.

"He is a friend of my guardian's family," said Shirou truthfully, "and came to say hello."

Hotaruzuka-san raised an eyebrow and looked at the pocket where Shirou had stuffed the address and envelope Kamido had given him. Shirou kept his poker face up, and eventually the owner relented.

"Fine, fine, be that way. Still, a hard-working young man like you should be careful who he associates with, Shirou-kun."

"Ahah ..." Shirou laughed nervously. "I will take that into consideration, Hotaruzuka-san."

It looked like his trip to Kumamoto was going to be more eventful than expected. Wonderful.

* * *

In her room, Rin was sat at her desk, reading and frowning thoughtfully. To anyone else, the stack of papers spread out across her desk would have looked like an outright mess, but she knew exactly where everything was and how each piece related to the others.

One pile was dedicated to her finances, listing the various bank accounts, both in Japan and off-shore. While she _did _pay taxes to the Japanese government, unlike most magi who hid their wealth from mundane authorities, Rin had to make sure no one in the fiscal administration got too curious as to the origin of her family's income. Admittedly, that hadn't been much of an issue until recently, what with Kirei having brought the Tohsaka family close to complete ruin.

That pile was dealt with, at least for now. Seven months weren't nearly enough to restore her family fortunes, even with the influx of capital from Emiya's accumulated rent. But the suitcase of cash had been enough to buy back a few of the properties Kirei had sold during his disastrous management of the Tohsaka finances, and with the regular income provided by her family's patents in the Moonlit World, eventually their former wealth would return. Which meant that sooner or later she would have to make a trip to the headquarters of the National Tax Agency in the prefecture and hypnotize one or two public servants to make sure no awkward questions were raised.

She would see about doing that during the summer vacation. The second set of papers, the one she was currently working on, was her correspondence with the Clocktower.

Though the Tohsaka were as isolated from the rest of the Association as was to be expected for an Oriental family, their monopoly on the Jewelcraft patents they had produced meant that they still had _some _contacts in the European magus circles. It was upon those contacts that Rin had drawn, offering discounts on the use of her family's patents in exchange for information about the Fourth Grail War.

She had framed her questions as curiosity about the exact circumstances of the conflict that had resulted in her father's demise – she didn't want Emiya's existence to be revealed to the noble families of the West yet, lest one of them decide to take revenge on him for something his adoptive father had done. The results had been … interesting, to say the least.

For one thing, she had confirmed what Kirei had told her : Kiritsugu Emiya _had _been the Master for the Einzbern family during the Fourth Grail War. The Magus Killer had been hired by the magi to serve as their representative, win the War for them, and bring them the Grail so that the family could reclaim the lost Third Magic, the Heaven's Feel. Instead, he had betrayed them in circumstances unclear, and had destroyed the Grail, unleashing its wild, uncontrolled energies that had caused the Fuyuki Fire.

Rin hadn't breached that subject with Emiya. She knew the boy had been adopted by the Magus Killer after losing his family in the Fuyuki Fire. Emiya had also told her, during that first discussion seven months ago, that his father had told him "everything" about it. Did that include _why _a mercenary who, by all accounts, had _won _the Grail War and gained an unlimited wish had decided to abandon it at the last minute, causing the very devastation that had turned him into an orphan in the first place ?

She doubted it. It was clear Emiya had loved his father dearly, and still held the memory of the man in high esteem. Or perhaps Kiritsugu had a reason for his actions that was good enough in his son's eyes ? She had difficulties imagining what that may be, but perhaps if another contestant had been about to win the Grail and use its power for some kind of evil wish …

Regardless of Kiritsugu's motives, the fury of the Einzbern family had been terrible, to the point that it hadn't been hard at all for her contact to find witnesses in the Clocktower who had seen the tantrums of the Einzbern magi with their own eyes. There had been a lot of screaming, cursing, and throwing around very expensive ancient artefacts in fits of rage, along with a sudden surge in the number of homunculi who had been butchered by their masters for the slightest mistake – even sometimes for no apparent reason at all.

Things had gotten so bad that the dreaded Vice-Director, Lorelei Barthomeloi – who back then had still been a newcomer to her title – had been forced to intervene directly. The Queen of the Clocktower had all but threatened the Einzbern with expulsion from the Association and being declared Heretics if they didn't calm down, and slapped them with a fine whose alleged amount had nearly caused Rin to faint. And yet, considering that the Einzbern were also responsible for footing the bill for the clean-up of the Holy Grail Wars, it was likely that sum hadn't even put a dent in their coffers. The wealth of the alchemist family was legendarily obscene.

Soon after that, the entire Einzbern family had withdrawn to their castle in Germany, and sent only homunculi to attend to their business outside their territory. The Association was rife with rumors as to why that was the case – the general consensus was that after the humiliation the family had suffered in the Fourth Grail War, they had decided to focus all of their efforts and resources on securing victory in the next one. There were rumors that a _lot _of money was flowing out of the Einzbern coffers and being invested into various archaeological projects and antique collections across the globe.

No doubt the Einzbern wanted to secure a catalyst for the next Grail War that could summon a Heroic Spirit powerful enough that their victory would be assured. That annoyed Rin, given that there was every chance she or her children would be selected as participants when the next Grail War started in a few decades.

… She just hoped Sakura's and Emiya's didn't also end up chosen as Masters. She didn't doubt for an _instant _that the two of them would end up having kids one day, and the mere thought of these children ending up fighting her own made her sick to her stomach.

Her contact had searched for more information on the Fourth Grail War, but had hit a surprising dead end. There just wasn't that much known about the Heaven's Feel Ritual in the Clocktower, despite it potentially being a path to directly access the Root, and despite one of the most promising young Lords the Clocktower had seen in years, Kayneth El-Melloi of the Archibald family, dying in it, taking his family's priceless Magic Crest along into the grave. It was as if someone were suppressing information about it, which Rin supposed made sense : no one wanted the noble families of the West to tear each other apart over which would get to send a participant when the next Grail War came around.

She would tell Emiya what she had learned about the Einzbern, as she had promised – so long as he compensated her for the discounts she had given in exchange. Business was business, after all. She wouldn't overcharge him, though : she hadn't completely lied to her contact when she had told that she was curious about the events of the Fourth Holy Grail War. Her father had died in it, her mother had been driven insane, and even a few of her friends from elementary school had vanished – those she hadn't been there to rescue from Caster's monstrous excuse for a Master.

She hadn't found out who had killed her father, but she did have a more comprehensive list of the participants. Kiritsugu Emiya, Tokiomi Tohsaka, Kariya Matou, Kirei Kotomine, Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, Waver Welvet and the serial killer who had been Caster's Master. Looking at the records of that time period – even the censured version of events the mundane world had been given had some clues in it – she had been able to reduce the list of suspects in her father's murder. Her deductions were written on one other sheet of paper, in the encoded, rune-based script her family used for important documents.

When her father had come to visit her and her mother for the last time, Caster and his Master had been killed in the battle of Fuyuki River, and Kayneth had also been slain by the Magus Killer – _that _was common knowledge in the Clocktower, despite the Archibalds' attempts to hide the truth of their Lord's shameful defeat at the hands of a common mercenary. Kirei's own Servant, Assassin, had been the first casualty in the War, and the fake priest had already withdrawn from the War by that point.

Of the remaining Masters, Kariya Matou certainly had a motive for going after Tokiomi. According to Sakura, her uncle had joined the Grail War for the sole purpose of freeing her from Zouken : in exchange for the Grail, the old monster had promised to release Sakura from his grasp. Knowing what Sakura had been subjected to and the ravages that Zouken's "training" would have inflicted on Kariya's psyche in order for him – someone who had turned away from Magecraft years ago – to be able to participate in the Grail War, Rin couldn't even blame the man for trying to kill her father. She vaguely remembered what Kariya had looked like when he had rescued her from Caster's familiars : a haggard, hollowed out figure barely resembling the kind-looking man who had used to give her and Sakura gifts, before everything had gone wrong.

Kariya's hatred of Tokiomi for giving up his daughter to Zouken would explain why he could have gone after him, but not how he had managed to overcome him. Unlike Kariya, Tokiomi had been a proper magus, who had spent years preparing to fight in the Grail War. Surely not even Zouken's monstrous "training" could be enough to bridge the difference between them.

Waver Welvet was even less likely a culprit. The successor of Lord El-Melloi had been a teenager at the time of the Fourth Grail War, who had used a relic he had stolen from his mentor to summon the King of Conquests, Iskandar – more commonly known as Alexander the Great. Somehow, Rin couldn't imagine her father succumbing to a child as old then as she was now, and if Rider had been the one to kill him then surely the confrontation between him and Tokiomi's own Servant would have left the Tohsaka residence in ruins. Instead, it had been intact when she had returned after the War, with only the outer layer of the Bounded Fields around it having collapsed due to the death of their creator.

Which left the last option : Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer. Someone who specialized in taking down magi, even when they hid in the most secure of Workshops. Someone who had blown up an entire hotel building to take down Kayneth. Someone who had been contracted to Saber, recognized as the strongest Class of all seven.

… one day, she would gather up the courage to ask Emiya if he knew if his father had killed hers.

The last third of her papers were the notes she was using to train Emiya and Sakura in basic Magecraft. The latter's education in that regard was even more lacklustre than Emiya's : Sakura knew some of the basic concepts of Magecraft, but she had never received even the most basic training, instead being subjected to the vile tortures that passed for induction into the Matou Mysteries.

After the first month of painfully teaching Emiya the basics of Magecraft, he had asked her to focus on teaching Sakura, which made her suspect that the boy wasn't anywhere near as useless at Magecraft as he seemed during their lessons.

Maybe she could ask Sakura about Emiya's Mysteries when the two of them were together at the Emiya household, with Emiya himself off to Kumamoto. She wouldn't press her sister, of course. Her main reason for going was to ensure Sakura was fine in her savior's absence, just like he had asked her when they had talked about it earlier today.

"_So you are participating in the archery c__ompetition__ after all, Emiya-kun ?__"_

"_Yes. Sakura is going to be alone in the house for two nights, and I would rather she had someone she can trust nearby when that happens. Could you stay with her while I am gone ? She is recovering, but she still has a long way to go."_

"_If you know your absence is going to hurt her," _she had replied, angered_, "then why are you going to that stupid tournament in the first place ?!"_

"_Because I don't want her to be completely dependant on me to function all her life, Tohsaka. __I don't intend to ever abandon her, but it's better for her to be able to stand on her own."_

She had accepted – of course she had. She had long ago promised herself that she wouldn't miss any occasion to spend time with her sister unless it was for a really, _really _good reason. Emiya was right, though : Sakura was completely attached to him. Oh, she could be apart from him : it would have made going to school awkward otherwise. But she loved him to an unhealthy degree. It made sense : he _had _saved her from unspeakable torment, after all, and done so for no other apparent reason that because it was the right thing to do.

Certainly it hadn't been to get his hands on the Matou Mysteries. The secrets of the Founding Family had been lost in the blaze that had consumed the Matou estate, and Sakura had known very little of her adoptive "family's" magics. If that had been his goal, then he would at least have plundered the house on his way out, but as far as Rin knew he really had made a beeline for his own home in order to treat Sakura. It really seemed that Shirou Emiya was exactly what he appeared to be : a kind-hearted young man who, after learning his dear friend was being abused by her family, had gone to extreme lengths to rescue her. Except that that story, beautiful as it was, didn't really make sense.

Of Rin's two unofficial apprentices, Sakura appeared to be by far the more talented. Emiya had strong od reserves and good quality Circuits for a first-generation magus, but there was a reason Sakura had been handed off to the Matous instead of a mundane family. Rin's younger sister was every bit as much a prodigy at Magecraft as she herself was, if in a different direction. She had already surpassed Rin in Bounded Fields, adapting her trait of Imaginary Numbers to this type of Magecraft to great effect. It was her who had reinforced the Bounded Field around the Emiya residence, adding actual defenses to the alarm and noise suppression ones that Emiya had inherited from his father.

Even after seven months of regular visits to the Emiya residence, Rin still had very little knowledge on Emiya's Mysteries. He claimed to be essentially a first generation magus, taught only the very basics of Reinforcement and Structural Grasping from his father – and if all that Rin had to go on were his performance when she taught him and Sakura, she would have believed him. But no third-rate magus would ever have been able to break into the Matou household, kill Zouken and heal what had been done to Sakura.

… Rin still had nightmares from the description Emiya had given her of her sister's treatment at the hands of the Matou family. That the girl was still sane, let alone so far on the path of recovery, was a testament to how strong she was. Rin didn't think she would have survived as long as Sakura had.

That Emiya had managed to heal Sakura – and Rin had performed her own examination of the girl once she had been comfortable enough with her presence, just to double-check – instead spoke of a level of Mysteries that would rival even the Church's own healers. Maybe it was a Mystic Code he had inherited from his father ? Certainly, it would explain how both he and the Magus Killer had been able to take down powerful magi within their Workshop if they had something that let them slip through Bounded Fields.

Thinking back on what she had witnessed the day she had confronted Emiya, it was obvious that he had Mystic Eyes of some sort that let him observe magical phenomena in a manner similar to Structural Analysis, only without the need to touch the target. In hindsight, she shouldn't have interrupted him when he had listed all that his eyes could see when looking at her : that would have given her a more complete idea of just how far those beautiful golden eyes of his could see …

_Wait, "beautiful" ?_ she thought, startled._ Where did that come from ?! _

_Oh Root, I am alone in my room thinking about how pretty a boy's eyes are, _she suddenly realized, her cheeks heating up.

Well, she _did _have a duty to continue the Tohsaka bloodline as its last recognized member. And Emiya was certainly a good party in that regard : he had strong Magic Circuits and …

_Okay_, that was enough time spent staring at bank accounts and reports. It was time to get down and get herself something to eat for dinner. This was all Sakura's fault.

Her younger sister kept showing off her closeness with Emiya whenever Rin visited them, draping herself over him, hugging him and kissing him right in front of her, always with a smile on her face when she looked at her after. Rin felt conflicted about that. On one hand, it was always nice to see Sakura smile more. On the other hand, it embarrassed the hell out of her, especially when Sakura then commented on how much she enjoyed her Senpai's affections, following by insinuating that Rin was after them too. Which wasn't _wrong –_ Rin was self-aware enough to realize that she had a crush on the red-haired boy – but certainly wasn't helping her dignity as a magus and an elder sister.

A quick look at the clock showed that it was too late to go to Emiya and eat dinner there – something she was unashamed to admit she had done many times in the last seven months. It was part of the arrangement they had reached concerning Emiya's rent to her as the Second Owner and as his and Sakura's teacher in the more basic aspects of Magecraft. As long as she could eat his cooking a few times a week – okay, sometimes it was more than "a few" times – then any other payment could be waived. Other magi may have scoffed at how small a price that was, but screw them. They hadn't tasted Emiya's cooking after years of living on her own.

_Not only he is nice to look at, but his cooking is great, too, _she thought before catching herself. Yep, definitely time to stop working for the evening.

It wasn't as if there was anything urgent requiring her attention, after all.

* * *

"… I understand. Please come meet me in the church once you arrive. I have information that I believe you need to know before making your move. No, it's better if I tell you in person rather than over the phone … There are things I need to verify before telling you – I would not want you to operate under false assumptions if I am mistaken. Yes. Have a good trip, then. Goodbye."

Kirei hung up the phone, a smirk on his face. It seemed that the Clocktower had finally caught on to the existence of the Emiya boy. And he hadn't even needed to do anything. Rin's attempts at gathering information had been subtle, but, it seemed, not subtle enough. That was hardly surprising : the girl was smart, but the Clocktower was a nest of serpents for whom intrigue was as natural as breathing.

And now the Archibalds, who had lost their Lord and Magic Crest to the hands of Kiritsugu Emiya during the Fourth Holy Grail War, sought to take their revenge on the Magus Killer's adopted son. They had found out about the destruction of the Matou family, and had used it to convince one of the Association's feared Enforcers to act as their hand in this matter. It amused Kirei that, for all their pride, the Archibalds weren't sending one of their own to avenge the slight to their honor.

Were the Archibalds afraid of losing more of their own to the Emiya, or did they want to minimize the risk of their unauthorized attack on an individual outside the Association coming to light ? It hardly mattered, in the end. The fact that the Archibalds were willing to take revenge on someone who had only been an unrelated child at the time of Kayneth's demise already showed their pride overweighted logic. What mattered was how much entertainment Kirei could derive from the whole affair.

Within a few days, the Archibalds' cats-paw would leave England and begin the journey to Japan. It would not be a quick journey : apparently, someone in the Archibald family had done their research, and now they were paranoiacally afraid that the boy would somehow _know _if their envoy took a plane, and shoot it down from the skies just as Kiritsugu himself had years ago.

Taking the train across two continents before crossing the sea between Japan and the mainland would be much longer, but it wasn't as if the boy was going anywhere. He had remained in Fuyuki for over a decade, after all. Kirei himself had recommended that course of action after being contacted by the Enforcer. He doubted the Emiya boy had the resources to find out someone was coming to take him down, let alone to destroy an entire plane – but the more hostile the Enforcer was to the boy, the easier his part would be.

This would be a good test of the boy's capabilities. Destroying Zouken had proven that he had the highly specialized skills required to perform such a deed, but him fighting against one of the Association's dogs would give Kirei the opportunity to check that his combat abilities were up to par. Kirei couldn't involve himself directly, of course – on the surface, this was strictly a matter for the Association, and his authority as Fuyuki's overseer didn't extend further than the Grail War. He had done everything he could to inherit the position after the Fourth War, hiding his father's breach of the Church's neutrality and alliance with the Tohsaka Master.

In a way, Kirei mused, his betrayal of Tohsaka, and murder of both his teacher and father could be seen as his taking action to punish those who had broken the sacred rules of the Holy Grail War. Would it not be ironic if _this _had been the true reason why the Grail had chosen him later on ?

If the Emiya boy died, then obviously he hadn't been worth the attention of the Grail in the first place, and would have made a poor Master when the next Holy Grail War began. That time was approaching soon, he could feel it in the space where his heart used to be. Within a year, two at most, enough mana would be accumulated within the Greater Grail, and the Command Seals would start being bestowed upon the Masters.

In the previous Holy Grail Wars, Masters had received their Command Seals much earlier – he himself had received his own three years before the beginning of the Fourth – but things were different now. The destruction of the Grail at the end of the Fourth War had shortened the time before the next Grail War, and so the period over which Masters were selected would be shortened as well.

Kirei wondered who would be chosen this time. His own participation was inevitable, since he technically was still Gilgamesh's Master. One Master would also be chosen from each of the three families that had created the Greater Grail system : the Matou, Tohsaka and Einzbern. The first two families only had one surviving member, so Rin and her sister would each receive a set of Command Seals. As for the Einzbern … who knew.

The alchemists would need to produce a Lesser Grail, and unless they were stupid enough to forget such an individual would eventually be subsumed by the power of the Greater Grail and turned into the Holy Grail itself, that custom-made homunculi could hardly be a Master themselves. The Einzbern would probably have grown one specifically for the purpose of fighting in the Grail War, which should be interesting at the very least.

If the Emiya boy survived the Archibalds' petty revenge, then Kirei didn't doubt he would be selected too. The Grail had marked him, and it would not have done so without a reason. Which still left two Masters for his God to select. Traditionally, the Mage Association had sent representatives of its own to the Holy Grail War, but Caster's Master in the last War had proven that the Greater Grail could choose Masters of its own will.

Had the three families known their creation could do such things, Kirei wondered ? Certainly he doubted that even the three magi who had created the Greater Grail had realized what it had the potential to achieve.

The Grail's influence had been so powerful, so insidious, it had triggered the defenses of the _Throne of Heroes itself_, forcing it to remove the Spirit Origin of _Gilgamesh of Uruk _from its ranks_. _The King of Heroes, first human to ever ascend to the Throne, no longer graced it with his august presence. Even now, years after he had pieced together what had happened at the end of the Fourth Grail War, the thought was enough to send shivers of awe down his spine.

It was ironic that, while it was Gilgamesh who had set him on the path that had led to his throwing off the shackles of morality that had strangled him all his life, the King himself had only been catapulted down that path himself by what could only be called a miracle. It was Gilgamesh who had first introduced Kirei to the notion that his own perception of the world, his own taste for the suffering of others, might not be something inherently sinful, but something to pursue in the name of his own happiness. At the time, the Servant had only done so because he had been bored with his own Master and had sought entertainment by helping Kirei realize his own nature. But now …

It was obvious to Kirei that the King of Heroes, for all that his arrogance had remained the same, had changed a great deal since the Fourth Holy Grail War. The Servant with whom he had conversed while still in Tokiomi's employ would not have ever considered the goal they were now both pursuing. Unleashing an apocalypse upon the world might have been amusing to him – Gilgamesh had made no secret of his contempt for modern Humanity – but the King of Heroes would have intended it as a test of the species' worth, a challenge meant to be overcome and cull the weak.

His pride would not have allowed him to subject himself to a greater purpose – _his_ purpose would have been the only thing worth pursuing, even if it had never been more than whims in all the time of their acquaintance. Even in the Fourth War, his only reason for pursuing the Grail had been because he had considered it to be already his by mere virtue of existing, and his pride would not countenance someone stealing what he perceived as his own treasure.

But the blessings of the Grail, partially unleashed by Kiritsugu Emiya's foolish actions, had transformed King Gilgamesh. Whatever he had seen when the black mud had enveloped him, even Kirei did not know, but it had transmuted his ego into something more ... rarefied.

Shallow egotism had been replaced by blazing conviction, and disgust with the state of the modern world with the vision of restoring and even surpassing the glory of the King of Heroes' living days. Where in life King Gilgamesh had rebelled against his own divine ancestors and ushered in the Dividing that had brought forth the end of the Age of the Gods, his current incarnation would help usher the new age of revelations.

The Gilgamesh Kirei had come to know during the Grail War would have been enraged by the attitude of his reborn self, and would have sought to destroy him at any cost. That knowledge pleased Kirei immensely, though he was very careful not to let it show in the Servant's presence – Gilgamesh's temper had survived his transformation unchanged. The King may have encouraged Kirei to indulge in the joy he took from the suffering and degradation of others, but the priest very much doubted Gilgamesh would appreciate Kirei enjoying hisown degradation.

Kirei was jealous, in a way. He would have done many things to see what the King of Heroes had seen as the Grail's contents washed around and in him. He _h__ad_ done many things, to ensure that he would see it one day. Things that would earn him damnation a thousand times over in the eyes of his colleagues in the Church, should they ever learn of them. But he did not care about their judgement.

He knew now that he was _n__ot_ a freak of nature, a broken soul born in a world that would never accept him. The Grail War had shown him that his was the true, proper state of mind of Humanity, the perfected form of the human soul. Unburdened by the false ethics that shackled so many, he was truly free. Free to see the world for what it was, a pit of suffering and tragedy, and not just survive, but_ revel_ in it. And with that freedom, he had willingly made himself the tool of that great power, becoming the humble servant of the true God that gestated within the Grail even now. He had broken his every vow, but in doing, he had found true faith.

... Look at him, getting all philosophical. He really needed to find a hobby to occupy his free time, one that wouldn't get him in trouble. Perhaps it was time to take up cooking again. He had stopped after Rin had no longer depended on him for most of her meals during her training, but unexpectedly, he had developed a taste for the spiced food he had first made as just another way to make her suffer.

… Maybe he shouldn't criticize Gilgamesh for being petty. It wasn't as if he were above such things himself.

* * *

AN : Hello, everyone ! This story is having a lot of success, with a lot of you leaving glowing reviews - which is always a good way to motivate me to keep writing. I am not proud of that, but it is the truth.

Here we are, seven months after the death of Zouken and Shinji and Sakura and Shirou starting to live together. Wheels are beginning to turn, dominoes to fall, and other suitably ominous metaphors. Also, by that point, I think a lot of you should start to figure out what is up with Shirou. If you don't, then the next few chapters should make it painfully clear - at least for us, the poor bastard is going to be troubled for quite some time yet.

Kirei's inner monologue at the end is my last-ditch attempt to explain the strange reveals at the end of the last chapter. Once again : this is an AU, with a lot of the Fate elements changed to accomodate the crossover. Things that are impossible according to the mechanics of the verse created by Type-Moon are very much possible in this story.

After all, the motto of this fic, it's one purpose, can be summed up thusly : to defy the tyranny of the Moon, and the grim darkness of the stars. And given the settings I am up against, I am going to have to cheat my ass off if I want to succeed.

I mean, I re-watched Fate/Zero in order to make sure I had every detail of the Fourth War correct in my mind, and, well, you know. Hopefully this should be the last time I need to do that - not that the story isn't well-written or animated or voiced, it's just that I like stories that have a happy ending.

By the way, if you see a giant tentacle monster slowly advancing toward you while fighting a bunch of super-powered individuals, RUN ! Don't dumbly stand there waiting to be eaten !  
(Seriously, that scene actually pissed me off. You would think Japanese people would know not to stay to watch the Kaiju battle.)

On another note, if you think you know who Rin's contact in the Association and who the Enforcer being sent by the Archibalds are, you are probably right. Coming up with those wasn't difficult, which is always nice.

Next up will be a chapter of Warband of the Forsaken Sons (a bit shorter than usual for that fic, but that's how the next few ones are going to be), which should be finished either today or tomorrow. Like many of you (at least half if my reading stats are correct), I am currently in isolation, and am making the best of the situation by trying to write as much as possible.

As I have said before, I have the entire current arc planned out - and now, thanks to some people on Spacebattles and their suggestions, I even have a name I had been wondering about for weeks. I also had a flash of inspiration that resulted in me finally finishing the list of Masters and Servants for the Fifth Grail War, after spending months wondering who I should use as Assassin.

Hopefully, the next chapter of this story will be up before the start of next week, but I make no promises. I have learned my lesson on that.

As always, if you have a question or something to say, please leave a review or send me a PM. Wherever you are, stay safe, and I hope this chapter provided you some amusement.

Zahariel out.


	7. Chapter 6

_They __fly__ through __empty__ skies, one drop in a rain of metal descending __in a deluge __upon black sands. Below them rages the thunder of a war most bitter and cruel, as its second battle is waged.  
__There is silence in the transport, as all contemplate what must be done. He sees his reflection in the polished armor of the warrior sat in front of him. He is tall, and strong, and holds in his hands the sword that was given to him when he was still mortal – before it, like him, was forged anew when he stopped being merely a knight and became an Angel of Death. Strips of parchment hung from his armor, inscribed with oaths of moments that command his obedience and loyalty.  
__The silence is broken by a distant voice, speaking on a vox-channel shared by all his brothers descending from the heavens.  
_"_My sons," says the voice, and hearing it sends a shiver down his spine, making him sit straighter in his seat. "A most dreadful moment is upon us. We go now to do what was once unthinkable, our hands forced by circumstances cruel beyond imagining. But we will not falter."  
_"_It is there, on these black sands, that the fate of the Imperium will be decided. Our actions this day will shape the course of history. They will echo for all eternity. The fate of all that we hold dear hangs in the balance, and we shall not be found wanting."  
_"_What we do this day will earn no glory, no memorial. But there is no choice. We go now to do what must be done, if Humanity is to have any future."  
_"_For the Legion and __t__he Imperium__," finishes the voice.  
_"_For the Legion and __t__he Imperium__," he and the other warriors echo.  
__How many times has he spoken those words ?__ They taste bitter in his mouth now.  
__T__his is the last stretch of the fall, __the first step on the path__. This is the last moment before the war engulfs them all.  
__This is the descent to Istvaan V._

* * *

**_July 21st, 2003 AD – Kumamoto City_**

"Oi, Emiya. Wake up, we are there."

Shirou opened his eyes, blinking to focus on his surroundings. There was someone just in front of him – brown eyes framed by brown, frowning eyes – who was shaking his shoulder.

"Mitsuzuri," he yawned, stretching in his seat while frantically filing away every detail of his dream for later analysis. Once again, it was a new one. None before had seemed so … ominous. "Is the journey over already ?"

"Yep. You were asleep almost from the moment the train left Fuyuki," said the girl, now looking at him with a trace of worry. "Are you alright ? You need to be in top form for the competition !"

"I will be fine," laughed Shirou. He wasn't going to tell her why he had been so tired when they had boarded the train. Sakura may have been fine with him leaving, but she had still exhausted him last night, claiming that she wanted to _"get three night's worth of Senpai" _before he left. Combined with the need to get up early to catch the train, it was no wonder he had fallen asleep right away.

"That little nap was all I needed. Why, are you worried about me ?"

"In your dreams," she scoffed. "I just don't want you to use fatigue as an excuse for when I beat you in the competition."

"Sure, sure. Thank you for waking me up anyway."

"Umph. You are welcome. Now hurry and get up."

"Ayako-chan, don't try to put the moves on Shirou," called out Taiga from where she was seated. "Sakura-chan told me to watch over him while we were away, and I am pretty sure that includes making sure not letting anyone seduce her boyfriend."

Mitsuzuri sputtered a denial, her face red with embarrassment from Taiga's comment. Deciding to be merciful, Shirou stood up without calling her out on it. Less than a minute later, the train came to a halt, and the representatives of Homurahara Academy's archery club stepped out.

The boys carried the girls' luggage, none of them foolish enough to protest. Including Taiga, the group numbered seven – two members of the archery club for each year of highschool and the teacher accompanying them.

As they walked out of the train station and toward the area where their taxis awaited them, Taiga started to talk about the area, slipping into her "teacher mode". Kumamoto City, she said, was the capital of the Japanese prefecture within which Fuyuki was located, and was home to over a million and a half people. It had five wards, which had developed around Kumamoto Castle, the most famous landmark in the area. She went on to recite some of the city's history, which Shirou tuned out until she returned to more immediate matters :

"There will be representatives from all fifteen cities of the prefecture at the tournament," continued the teacher, "including Kumamoto itself. In order to accommodate all ninety competitors plus spectators, the tournament will take place in the gymnasium of the local university, which lent it out for the competition. We will go to the hotel first, and then to the dojo to register our arrival."

She checked her watch – which showed that it just over 10 AM. "We should have enough time to grab some lunch after that. Everyone will need to be in their uniforms by 1:30 PM for the start of the demonstrations. I have heard that the organization committee managed to get some real pros to demonstrate, so make sure you won't bring shame to Homurahara, alright ?"

The six archery club members responded by a chorus of "yes". It still amazed Shirou every time he saw Taiga in "teacher mode" : he was far too used to how she behaved in his home, mooching off his food and teasing him and Sakura. But there was a reason Taiga was a teacher, and it wasn't just because her grandfather was the head of the local Yakuza family. She was actually good at her job, even if she always complained about how hard it was when she came to visit the Emiya household.

"The first round of the competition will take place right after the demonstration," continued Taiga, looking specifically at Shirou and Mitsuzuri. "That's the first years' turn, so you two will be the first to participate. Don't feel too pressured by that – no one is expecting too much from first years." Her serious face was split by a wild grin. "So feel free to surprise everyone by showing off just how good the two of you really are !"

"Yes, Fujimura-sensei !" energetically replied Mitsuzuri. Shirou merely nodded in response.

While they were packed in the two taxis, Shirou used the time to think back on the dream he had had in the train. Most of the visions had been vague, full of symbolism and stuff that made sense at the time but lost all significance once he woke up. This one, though … it had included actual _names_, even if what those names referred to was beyond him now. "Angel of Death", "Legion", "Imperium", and … "Istvaan V". Why would a number be added to that particular name he had no idea, but merely thinking it was enough to make him experience a strange sense of discomfort.

In fact, the entire vision was like that. The dreams had _never _been peaceful – even the ones he had before rescuing Sakura had involved killing monsters in a forest where visibility was extremely low, after all – but any emotional impact they had usually faded as soon as he woke up. This one, though …

Was he … was he actually _afraid _? It wasn't a feeling he was used to – the last time he had been really scared had been when he had confronted Zouken and had thought he would fail in saving Sakura. Perhaps this could help him finally make a breakthrough in his investigation of his strange power, regardless of how it made him feel. He _needed _to know more about this power, if only to make sure he wasn't a danger to those around him. Even if … even if he didn't _want _to.

A trip in another city with his clubmates was definitely not the appropriate time to contemplate matters related to his own strange magic abilities, though. For now, he would focus on the archery tournament and the task Kamido had given him. He would discuss this latest vision with Sakura once he was back home.

* * *

Four hours later, the luggage was at the hotel, everyone was in their Archery Club uniforms, and the competition was about to start. Seats had been set up in the gymnasium for those not currently participating and the friends, family and enthusiasts who had come to watch.

"Alright, Shirou, Ayako-chan," said Taiga, pumping her fist. "It's your turn. Go and show them what Fuyuki's Archery Club is made of !"

All thirty first-year competitors were lined up on the makeshift range, with targets laid down at the other side of the room. Temporary markings on the floor showed clearly which target was attributed to which competitor.

At the organizer's signal, the competitors took out their bow, each receiving a single arrow. The way the competition was set up was that they would all take a shot at their target, and those who missed the shot would be eliminated. The arrows would then be retrieved, and those who had succeeded would be handed another projectile – then it would start again. Accuracy wasn't the only skill being tested here – how long each competitor could keep up, how long they could maintain the level of focus necessary to hit a target, was the real challenge.

In truth, Shirou had considered deliberately missing after getting far enough into the competition to avoid drawing too much attention. He could always have claimed that it was due to stress from performing in front of so many people. That was hardly uncommon among highschool students, and even when he had performed for everyone in the Archery Club the crowd hadn't been nearly that numerous. But after seeing how much effort Mitsuzuri had put into her training, it would have felt wrong to do anything but his best – even if it ended up bringing him unwanted attention.

Also, he wasn't certain he could deceive Fuji-nee or Mitsuzuri, and he didn't want either of them angry at him if he could avoid it.

His first shot hit the bullseye, as he had known it would. So did the second, and the third, and the fourth, and so on. By the time people started to miss the target and be eliminated, the audience had noticed that he was consistently hitting the center of his target. Next to him, he could hear Mitsuzuri grit her teeth – she was hitting near her target's center, but had only hit the bullseye once.

Every "round" took several minutes, with everyone taking their time before shooting, the arrows being removed and those who had missed being removed from the line-up. Eventually, it all started to blur as Shirou's mind reached some sort of archery nirvana – draw, aim, shoot, relax, draw, aim, shoot, relax … Using his bow had always been relaxing to him, and the hushed noises of the crowd faded away as he completely immersed himself into his shooting.

Eventually, exhaustion took hold of the competitors. Archery was more tiring a sport than it looked : drawing the long bow, holding the string while aiming, all that while maintaining a rigid posture – those were surprisingly intense activities, especially when repeated over and over for a long period of time. Focus started to slip, and even those who could reliably hit a target ten times out of ten began to miss completely as their arms trembled and burned.

But not Shirou, and not Mitsuzuri. Three hours after the beginning of the competition, the two of them and another – the current ace of Kumamoto's own high school Archery Club – were left. There had been a pause at the two hours mark, more for the benefit of the spectators than the participants.

The three of them went on for another ten rounds before – finally – Mitsuzuri missed her shot, her arms trembling from exhaustion. After that, it was another four rounds before Shirou's last remaining competitor finally missed, the boy nearly collapsing from exhaustion and cramps.

For almost an entire minute, Shirou remained standing, waiting for someone to hand him his arrow so that he could fire again. It was only when Taiga spoke to him that he was shaken off of the trance-like state that had descended over him.

While the length of the competition wasn't special – after all, both Mitsuzuri and the boy had lasted almost all the way to the end – Shirou had been the only one of the participants to hit bullseye _every single time._ Thinking back on it as he was surrounded by questions about his skills, Shirou couldn't help but think that maybe he should have at least tried not to make perfect shot after perfect shot.

He could almost hear Tohsaka's voice calling him an idiot.

* * *

Once the first day of the competition was over and Shirou and Mitsuzuri had received their trophies as first and third and smiled for the cameras – there would an article about the tournament in the local newspapers, if a small one – the group returned to their hotel. They ate dinner at the establishment's in-house restaurant, celebrating their victory on the first day, before splitting between boys and girls, each heading to their own room. Though it was only 7 PM, the sun had already set, and Taiga had been adamant that everyone go to bed early in order to be ready for the next day's competition ("After all, we can't have the juniors steal all the glory, now can we ?").

Before going to her own, individual room – the privileges of being a teacher, so she claimed – Taiga once again made it clear that they weren't to leave the hotel, and that she would check they were up tomorrow at 7 AM. She promised terrible things would happen to the 2nd year students if they weren't ready on time, and though Shirou couldn't help but smile, he knew she looked suitably intimidating to his seniors.

However, Shirou couldn't remain in the room all night – not if he was to perform the task Kamido had asked of him. But he couldn't simply leave – his room-mates may be willing to cover for him, but he didn't want to take the risk. The mere thought of what Fuji-nee would think of him leaving the hotel in the evening to go into the city, especially after Sakura had asked her to look after him …

No, it was better to use magic to get himself out of that predicament. The other guys _were _already tired from the long day, and it only took a quick round of hypnosis to convince them to go to bed early and make sure they fell asleep immediately.

Once that was done, Shirou slipped into the casual clothes he had brought with him – it wouldn't do to walk around in his school uniform after dark – and left the hotel. Just in case, he took the bag of "special" equipment he had brought along, sliding it on his back. Sneaking past the man at the counter wasn't particularly difficult, and his room-mates wouldn't wake up before tomorrow morning unless something disturbed them.

He checked the address Kamido had given him one last time. He was lucky : the apartment complex where Natsuo Sakai lived was located just a few blocks from the hotel.

The street-lights did not particularly flatter the building as Shirou approached it. It was of standard construction, built after the war and well-maintained. A man was putting out the bins in front of it, and Shirou seized his chance, approaching him without trying to hide.

"Excuse me, sir," he called out. "Do you live in this building ?"

"Hm ? Yes, I do. I am the owner, matter of fact." He looked Shirou up and down, and frowned. "Aren't you a bit young to be out this late, kiddo ?"

_Well, here we go_, thought Shirou. He didn't like this, but it was necessary if he didn't want to draw attention. With a deep breath, he flicked his Magic Circuits open, and locked eyes with the older man.

The landlord tensed briefly, before relaxing as Shirou's hypnosis took hold. It was a minor trick, the kind every Magecraft user who interacted with mundane people had to master in order to help preserve the secrecy of Magecraft. Kiritsugu had taught this variant to Shirou, the old man having tweaked it so that it wouldn't leave any kind of long-term impact on its victims. The landlord would not remember anything of this conversation come tomorrow, but would answer Shirou's questions as best he could while the spell lasted.

"I am looking for someone living here," said Shirou, speaking slowly. "Do you know Natsuo Sakai ?"

"Yes. He is one of the tenants here. Quiet fellow, always pays the rent on time, never caused any problem. Spends more money than he should on the pachinko machines, but not so much that it's an issue."

"Do you know where he is, then ?"

"No." Despite the hypnosis, the man's face twisted in worry. "I haven't seen him in weeks. Even went to the police station to tell them he had vanished. The cops went to his flat to investigate, but I haven't heard back from them. He just went to work one morning and didn't come back."

Well. That certainly was ominous. Someone with Yakuza contacts disappearing, and the police seemingly not making any progress investigating it ? Shirou's mind started to whirr with possibilities, but he forced himself to remain focused on the here and now. Losing focus while hypnotizing someone was a recipe for disaster if ever there was one.

"Where did he work ?"

"He's a construction worker," answered the man. "I heard that he got work on the big construction project further out of town – some kind of office complex for one of them big companies." He went on to give directions, which Shirou memorized attentively.

"Thank you," said the red-haired teenager, releasing the hypnosis. The man blinked, his mind rebooting. From Shirou's experience, he would be constructing his own version of their discussion – it was time to make sure that version went in the right direction. "I would have been lost without your help, sir. Here, let me help you with these bins."

After helping the confused landlord put out the garbage for the city's workers to collect on the morning, Shirou gave his goodbyes and left, pondering his options. Kamido hadn't had any information on Natsuo Sakai's silence : the Yakuza had simply told him that the man had stopped answering their calls and letters. Technically, Shirou _could _just go back to his hotel and call Kamido in the morning to tell him what he had learned and see if the man wanted him to investigate further. There was still another day of the competition left, after all : he could go back out tomorrow evening if needed.

But if Natsuo Sakai was in trouble, then even a few hours could potentially make all the difference. Admittedly, it had been several weeks since he had gone missing, and Shirou was grimly aware that if the man's disappearance had a sinister cause, finding him alive was unlikely by that point. Yet as long as there was a chance, however remote, that his actions could help, Shirou didn't really have a choice.

The construction site was much farther than the apartment complex had been from the hotel, but it was still a distance that could reasonably be crossed on foot without needing to accelerate using Reinforcement. A little over an hour later, Shirou had reached his destination. The landlord hadn't been exaggerating when he had described the scale of the construction : the wall he was facing was hundreds of meters long, and a massive panel showed a picture of what the area would look like once the work was done. At the bottom of the panel was a stylized representation of seven pillars connecting the Earth and the Heavens.

Shirou recognized that emblem : he had seen it that very morning, painted on the side of the train that had carried the archery team from Fuyuki to Kumamoto. It was that of the Mihashira Conglomerate, one of Japan's biggest corporations. He wasn't surprised to find it here : the Mihashira Conglomerate had branches in everything from computers to canned food. The newspapers had even taken to calling the group "the Pillars" in reference to its name, to express how important it was in Japan's economy.

He _was _surprised by the Bounded Field surrounding the construction site, however.

Suddenly, the disappearance of Natsuo Sakai had become even more sinister. Before, it could have been the result of a rival Yakuza gang learning about the man's connection to the Fujimura Group. But now that the Moonlit World was involved, things were looking even more grim. From the moment the landlord had told Shirou the man had disappeared, he had worried that he wouldn't find him alive. Now, it was all too likely death was the kindest possible fate to have befallen Natsuo Sakai.

Shirou focused prana into his eyes, activating their ability to perceive Magecraft. Months after the experiment that had revealed Sakura's condition to him, it seemed that his eyes had been permanently altered – now all it took to reproduce the level of perception he had accidentally given himself was a small trickle of prana into his eyeballs. With it and his improved knowledge of Magecraft thanks to Tohsaka's teaching, he could interpret the Bounded Field's propertires.

The Bounded Field seemed to be targeted at keeping people from wanting to get inside, without any real defence attached. That was nice, because Shirou had yet to reproduce the immunity to Bounded Fields that had let him invade the Matou household. It really was a simple field, inferior even to the one that had existed around the Emiya estate before Sakura had reinforced the residence's defence using Tohsaka's teachings. All it would take to ignore it was an effort of will, and that was the one thing Shirou Emiya had plenty of.

With one last look around to make sure there wasn't anyone watching or any camera recording him, Shirou vaulted over the palisade and into the construction site proper.

The construction had stopped at the stage of digging the foundations of the various buildings meant to form the office complex. He noted the tools scattered on the ground and the traces in the broken earth – as if a lot of heavy things (bodies, perhaps, his mind grimly provided) had been dragged across. Here, one excavator had slid into the hole it had been used to dig, keys still in the ignition; there, a protective helmet laid on the ground next to – was that dried blood ?

Drawing a pair of tonfas from his backpack, Shirou followed the footprints and other traces. A lot of them were converging on one particular digging site, where, if his memories of the panel outside were correct, the skyscraper central to the complex was supposed to one day rise. From the edge of the enormous hole, Shirou glanced downward – the foundation stretched dozens of meters deep, but unlike the steel beams and other supports he would have expected, there was something else at the bottom.

Reinforcing his eyes, Shirou saw that it was a heavy-duty elevator, identical to the one at the pit's edge and to which the traces Shirou had followed led. But why, after finishing digging the foundation, had the workers dug another, smaller pit, and gone to the trouble of setting up another elevator ?

This deserved closer investigation. Shirou made his way to the first elevator. A quick Structural Grasping revealed that it was still in working condition. Even its generator was still turned on, which was weird considering that the beginning of plant growth on the earth indicated work had stopped weeks ago. Cautiously, he stepped inside and activated it. With a groan, it jerked into action, lowering him to the bottom of the foundation.

The traces started again outside the elevator's landing zone. Unsurprisingly, they led directly to the other elevator. The drilling machine that had dug the shaft through which it descended was still next to it.

Unlike the elevator that had brought Shirou to the bottom of the foundations, the cage was at the bottom of the shaft. Using Structural Grasping on the cables revealed that the shaft was at most a hundred meters deep – which was quite the distance to go through, unless the Mihashira construction workers had reason to suspect there was _something down there._

Shirou pressed the call button – and it immediately sprung to life, cables spinning to raise the cage from the depths. It took a good five minutes for the elevator to arrive, and the whole structure was groaning and squeaking the entire time.

He looked at the metallic platform. There, too, were traces of dried blood. His hands tightened around his tonfas. Moving to angle his head so that he could look directly into the shaft, he Reinforced his eyes again, looking into the pitch-black darkness. Even with his enhanced vision, he couldn't detect any Magecraft down there, but that didn't mean anything.

Well, there was only one thing left to do, then. Shirou did a final check of his equipment, used some of the discarded tools to open the emergency exit on top of the elevator cage – in case the elevator stopped working and he needed to climb back up by pulling himself up the steel cables – and went inside. After taking a deep breath and flexing his Magic Circuits one final time, Shirou pressed the 'down' button on the elevator command panel, and began his descent into the abyss.

* * *

AN : _Enter solo instance ? = Yes._

That was a Secret World reference. It was playing that game that inspired me with the entire "missing person - abandoned construction site - underground section" storyline. It may seem out of place, but I promise you it will serve a greater purpose.

In all seriousness, while this chapter is a little shorter than usual (and kinda lacking in action) I felt it was best to cut things here. Everything has been set up, next chapter is going to be a doozy - and I may as well warn you now, things may get a little more ... intense.

As in, horror-movie style intense. This story has a M rating, so that shouldn't be an issue, but it's probably best I warn you about it anyway.

Archery tournaments probably don't happen like this in real life, but I found a video of a kyūdō competition online where it was how they did it, so I just rolled with it. It isn't like it was relevant to the plot, and I had already spent far too much time researching this.

Seriously, I am going to post the list of the topics I had to research for this arc once it's done, and you will be surprised by how many there are. It turns out that writing a story set in the real world - in comparison to Warhammer stories at least - demands a lot of research for the most stupid things.

Thanks to Spartan3909 for his suggestion for the Mihashira Conglomerate's name : I was stumped on that one for a long time, and his suggestion was the inspiration I needed.

This chapter was brought to you by FGO's Random Number God, who in Its gracious benevolence bestowed upon me another 5-star Servant. I am unworthy of your blessings, oh Great One, and present unto you this paltry offering as thanks.

(Look, I have been trapped alone in my flat for three weeks now. I am starting to get superstitious as well as stir-crazy. Deal with it.)

By this point, I am confident most of you who have also read the Roboutian Heresy have figured out the identity of Shirou's "dream-self".

As a compensation for a shorter chapter than usual, here is a quick list of the Roboutian Heresy's Space Marine Legions (in the RH, the dividing of the Legions into Chapters never happened).

Since there are plenty of readers who haven't read the Roboutian Heresy (and even, to my absolute shock, some who hadn't had any experience with the Warhammer universe before), I felt this could be useful.

Keep in mind that these are very basic summaries.

Dark Angels : Traitors, Tzeentch, Daemon Primarch Lion El'Jonson. The Legion is known for its mastery of sorcery and deceit, and its unending hunt for the loyalist Fallen who escaped Caliban's destruction.

Emperor's Children : Loyalists. Fulgrim vanished during the Burning of Commoragh, when he chased after the Arch-Renegade Fabius Bile. The Legion is known for its endurance, which it earned during the Bleeding Wars of the Heresy, where near the entire Legion was captured by the Dark Eldars.

Iron Warriors : Loyalists. Perturabo is entombed within a Dreadnought due to the wounds he received in the Long War. The Iron Warriors maintain the Iron Cages, networks of fortress-worlds around the Eye of Terror and the Ruinstorm.

White Scars : Traitors, Unaligned. Jaghatai Khan vanished during the Siege of Terra, and is considered dead by the Imperium. Without their Primarch, the Legion fractured into raiding warbands across the galaxy. They are known to make use of necromancy to create Undying.

Space Wolves : Traitors, Unaligned. Leman Russ vanished during the Heresy while following Lion El'Jonson into the Maelstrom prior to the Lion's ascension to daemonhood. The fractured Legion makes great use of xenos technology, and Bjorn the Fell-Handed searches for his father to this day.

Imperial Fists : Traitors, Khorne, Daemon Primarch Rogal Dorn. The Legion was broken by Sigismund after the Heresy, with Sigismund's followers becoming the Black Templars. A powerful rite performed during the Heresy shields the Imperial Fists from the all-consuming bloodlust that afflicts Khorne's mortal followers, allowing them to build armies and wage war in a more efficient manner.

Night Lords : Loyalists. Konrad Curze died on Istvaan V, killed by Vulkan after slaying the immortal Primarch several times. The Night Lords are enforcers of justice across the Imperium, dreaded by corrupt Governors and criminals alike.

Blood Angels : Traitors, Slaanesh, Daemon Primarch Sanguinius - the Angel. At Signus Prime, Sanguinius accepted the Dark Prince's offer to save his Legion from the Red Thirst. The entire Legion craves blood still, experiencing the memories of its victims in a sensory overload. After the Heresy, Sanguinius was revealed to have gone mad and trapped in illusions of a world where he is still loyal, leading to the Legion fracturing.

Iron Hands : Traitors, Nurgle, Daemon Primarch Ferrus Manus. At Pandorax, the Iron Hands were trapped and exposed to Nurgle's contagion, forcing them to surrender to the Plague God to survive.

World Eaters : Loyalists. Angron vanished some time after the War of the Beast and the Beheading. His Legion continues without him, upholding his teachings of brotherhood, protection of the common Imperial citizen, and hatred of all things related to slavery.

Ultramarines : Traitors. Guilliman fell to the Emperor and Fulgrim at the climax of the Siege of Terra, his body was put in stasis on Maccrage, at the center of the Ruinstorm - a great Warp Storm similar to the Eye of Terror, engulfing the Five Hundred Worlds and serving as the Ultramarines' base.

Death Guard : Loyalists. Mortarion died at Vulkan's hands during the Scouring. The Death Guard specialize in purging entire alien species and scouring entire worlds clean of life, using weaponry from the Dark Age of Technology. They are also the source of the Legion of the Damned, composed of those Death Guards who cannot bear the psychological toll of committing genocide after genocide.

Thousand Sons : Loyalists. Magnus was put into a coma during the Scouring, his body laid to rest on Terathalion, the Legion's new homeworld after the Wolves razed Prospero. Protected from the flesh-change by the Rubric of Ahriman, the Thousand Sons struggle to maintain their numbers due to the horrific toll the spell takes on their recruits. To compensate for their small numbers, they fight alongside the Spire Guard.

Sons of Horus : Loyalists. Horus died at the hands of Sanguinius during the Siege of Terra. The Sons of Horus, led by the Mournival, are at the forefront of Imperial war efforts across the galaxy.

Word Bearers : Loyalists. Lorgar vanished into the Warp during the Scouring. The Word Bearers continue to fight to protect Humanity from the tyranny of false gods, all the while glaring at the Ecclesiarchy and waiting for the first sign of renewed corruption after the Reign of Blood.

Salamanders : Traitors, Chaos Undivided, Daemon Primarch Vulkan - the Black Dragon. Specializes in oppression and tyranny, using sorcerous Brands to compel obedience, and display dragon-like mutations.

Raven Guard : Traitors, Chaos Undivided, Daemon Primarch Corvus Corax - the Ravenlord. Specializes in horrific mutations and use cloned Astartes (Spawn Marines) to fill their ranks.

Alpha Legion : Loyalists. Primarch situation is ... complicated, just read the Index for this one.

This story is having a lot of success - we went over 400 followers on ffnet last week. That's ... a little intimidating, to be honest. I am going to continue to try and do my best.

Thank you all for your support. If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review - you would be surprised how much it helps getting the creative juices flowing. Do it if you have a question - I try to answer to all such reviews by PMs.

The next chapter is already underway. I considered delaying this chapter so I could fuse the two of them, but I finally decided it made more sense to end it here instead.

OK, that's it for now. Sorry about the lengthy AN.

Zahariel out.


	8. Chapter 7

**_July 21st, 2003 AD – Kumamoto City  
__Beneath the Mihashira construction site_**

The stench was the first thing to reach Shirou as the elevator descended into the darkness. A potent reek of rot and death wafted up the elevator shaft, and he nearly threw up as it filled his nostrils. The deeper he went, the more the stench intensified.

Finally, the elevator cage slammed at the bottom, the machinery going quiet. By that point, the stench was almost unbearable, and Shirou had to use his self-hypnosis training to force himself to ignore it as he took stock of his surroundings.

Beyond the light of the elevator's light bulb, the underground was plunged in total darkness. Fortunately, this wasn't an obstacle to Shirou, who simply poured the smallest trickle of od into his eyes. They started to glow, enabling him to see as if it were daylight.

A _torii _gate sculpted of stone stood at the entrance of a passage that went at least a few dozen meters deep. Broken chains hung from its pillars, and a line of rust could be seen between them where the links had fallen and rusted away to nothing.

A silent generator laid next to the elevator, cables leading from it to the corridor. Behind the elevator were stone steps leading a few meters up, before being suddenly interrupted by collapsed rock and earth.

And right in front of the elevator's gate was a woman's corpse, laying at the end of a trail of blood.

As he knelt to the side of the body, Shirou forced himself to put his emotions aside and look at this as he thought his father would – coldly and analytically. There was nothing he could do to help this woman, except make sure she hadn't died in vain.

The woman had died from bleeding out through the long, vertical slash that had almost completely eviscerated her. Judging by the trail of blood – which, like that he had found above, was days old at best – she had managed to crawl from deeper into the underground complex before dying at the foot of the elevator, failing to get in. Shirou didn't have any experience in evaluating how long a body had been dead, something for which he was thankful, but it was obvious the woman had died weeks ago. The corpse was the source of the stench that had wafted up the elevator shaft.

Whatever had killed her had cut through her bullet-proof vest, but it had not been a clean cut. The material had been shredded. That she had survived long enough to get here – that she had survived at all past the initial shock – was a testament to how tenacious the woman had been.

She had a company ID badge attached to her chest, next to the wound. It was splattered with flecks of dried blood, but Shirou could still read it. On it, along with the Mihashira Conglomerate emblem, were her name – Ochiyo Mizusawa – and her position in the Conglomerate – member of the Special Security Division. There was a barcode and a combination of letters and numbers that Shirou was confident would have meant something to someone working for the Conglomerate, but he didn't have in-depths knowledge of the group's methods or activities.

Perhaps that would need to change in the future, if the Conglomerate was involving itself in situations such as this. For instance, in one of her hands, Mizusawa held a sword whose blade was broken a few centimeters past the hilt. What kind of conglomerate employed security forces armed with _swords _?

Shirou Grasped the blade. It was of good quality, despite having been forged on an assembly line using high-quality steel. Bracing himself, he went _deeper_, trying to extract more information from the broken sword.

It was something he had discovered a few years back, when facing a gangster who had used a sword as a weapon in order to get around Japan's strict gun control laws. His nature as an Incarnation allowed him to synchronize with any bladed tool, letting him absorb their history with an ease normally reserved for true masters of Structural Grasping or those possessing a special talent for psychometry.

He doubted there would be anything pleasant to learn from _that _sword, but he needed more information.

_Nervousness, hidden behind a mask of practiced calm. Her hands tighten around her weapon's grip.  
__Yellow bones – an altar of black stone – a cage – "is that … is he still -"  
__Shock. Pain. Fear. So much fear it seems to drown her.  
__Run. Run run run run – pain. The bizarre sound of her own body coming apart.  
__More pain. More fear. Need to get away, need to get way, need to get away.  
__Run. Fall. Crawl. Need to get away. Can't fight it. Shouldn't have come. __I__ntel was wrong.  
__And then … noth-_

Shirou pulled himself from the visions, frowning even as he closed the dead woman's eyes. Like the blade itself, the memories he pulled from the weapon were fragmented and broken. That was alarming in itself – he had practiced on broken blades in the past, and every fragment had kept the memories of the whole. Whatever had broken the weapon had damaged its very spiritual essence – what someone more poetically inclined than Shirou may have called the sword's "soul".

Picking up his tonfas from where he had laid them during his examination, Shirou activated his Reinforcement, strengthening his body and the two weapons, and prepared to advance further. Whatever had killed Mizusawa had not followed her from deeper into the … temple ? The _torii _gate certainly seemed to indicate so, at least.

He could restart the generator, but announcing his presence to whatever had killed Mizusawa and her team didn't strike him as a good idea. Yet while his altered eyes could penetrate the darkness, they also glowed as a result – it was a weakness he hadn't gotten around yet. As long as there was _some _light, he could manage with simple Reinforcement – giving himself the same type of nightvision cats and other animals possessed – but in total darkness such as this, his eyeballs had to provide the illumination themselves.

_Better to go in with glowing eyes and risk being noticed than guaranteeing they know something is coming_, he decided before setting off and crossing the _torii _gate.

The tunnel was obviously man-made. It circled downwards, and there were alcove carved out in the walls that were full of ancient human bones. Skulls glared silently at the trespassing teenager – hundreds, _thousands _of them as he continued to go down. How many people had been buried here ? And more to the point, how had they died ?

Down he went, his respect for Mizusawa's tenacity growing with every turn. The descent wasn't steep, but making it back up with her injuries … _He _couldn't have done it, not without having Avalon heal the wound first. At some point in the descent, the trail of blood turned into a few drops where the woman had finally stopped being able to stand and had had to crawl the rest of the way.

On his way down, Shirou passed electric lights that were connected to the cable from the turned-off generator. A lot of these were broken, and using his Structural Grasping on those that weren't told Shirou that most of them were still no longer working, their inner components appearing to have rusted or burned out.

Several minutes later, the corridor ceased turning and went into a straight line again. A dim light emanated from the end, and Shirou lowered his Reinforcement, stopping his eyes' glow. He stopped in place, closed his eyes, and focused on his hearing instead. He hadn't mastered Reinforcing his ears yet, and this was a poor place to have his eardrums burst. But by focusing, he could hear …

… was that _breathing _?

The possibility, however remote, that _someone _was still alive down there overcame all of his prudence and restraint, and Shirou rushed through the last stretch of the corridor. He had made his peace with the fact that all he was likely to find in this subterranean complex were more corpses, and consoled himself with the vow that he could at least find out what had happened and neutralize the threat. But if there were _survivors …_

Shirou burst out of the corridor and into a vast, circular cavern. Judging by its smooth walls, it too had been dug out by human hands. He estimated its size at around a hundred meters wide.

There were burned-out candles on the floor, and ash-filled brazeros scattered along the walls. The source of the room's illumination came from a trio of floodlights that were connected to an electric generator identical to the one Shirou had found at the bottom of the elevator shaft – except this one still worked, its purring echoing softly across the cavern.

The temperature had been steadily decreasing as he went deeper, but it was even colder inside the cavern – cold enough Shirou could see his breath turn into vapor. There was something unnatural about the cold, an impression which was only reinforced by the cavern's contents. The stench of death and decay was even stronger here than it had been at the elevator, though the cold helped make it – barely – tolerable.

On the opposite side of the cavern was what Shirou could only identify as an altar. It was made of a single piece of black stone carved with symbols that made Shirou's eyes hurt, and he turned his gaze from it – he didn't want to know what Grasping it would do.

In front of the altar was a large hole whose edges were covered in dried blood. Cracks in the floor spread from it, and Shirou could sense the raw, utter _malevolence _that emanated from it. But it wasn't what caught his attention, for there, to the altar's right, was a cage, built of … bones. Human bones, tied together with what looked like woven tendons and hair. And within that cage was the source of the breathing he was hearing.

Shirou ran toward it, making no effort to hide his approach, but the figure crouched within the cage of bones did not react. Only when he smashed the "bars" apart with his Reinforced tonfas did the prisoner twitch. With a grunt of effort, Shirou pulled the entire small cage up and tossed it aside, before kneeling to the prisoner's side.

The man wore the working clothes of a construction worker, caked in filth and hanging over his wasted frame. He was thin, skeletally so.

In his right hand, he was clutching a small pendant inscribed with old words of blessings – the kind of talisman that was common among Japan's more traditionally religious families. But this was more than a mere piece of stone – Shirou could feel the power radiating from it, spreading into the prisoner's body. Judging by how thin the captive was, that power was probably the only thing keeping him alive.

Gently, Shirou lifted the man's head, and looked at his face. It was gaunt with hunger and horror, but he recognized it.

"Natsuo Sakai ?" Shirou asked, softly. The man opened bloodshot eyes, shivering in Shirou's arms as he looked at him in abject incomprehension. "I am a friend. The Fujimura Group sent me."

He reacted to the name, opening his mouth as if to speak – but no words came out. Shirou reached into his bag and pulled out a sports drink. He opened it and brought it to the starving man's lips.

"Here, drink. Slowly, now. Slowly …"

Sakai was so weak that it took him almost five entire minutes to drink the entire can. By the time he was done, his breathing had become a bit more regular, and he was looking at Shirou in wonder, as if he couldn't believe someone else was really there.

"How long have you been down here ?" asked Shirou.

"I don't know," the man whispered, and the raw _vulnerability _in those three words made Shirou tense. "What … what day is it ?"

Shirou told him. Sakai's eyes widened. "Weeks," he managed to say. "Ate through my boxed lunch long ago … licked the bones for water," he moaned, shivering. "It was poison, and it felt like a knife in the guts after, but I was so … so thirsty …"

"It's okay," said Shirou quickly, before the man could descend into a panic attack. "You are safe. I will get you out of here, and to a hospital."

Explaining things to concerned medical personnel wouldn't be easy, but he should be able to figure something out. But his words seemed to cause Sakai to grow even more agitated.

"No ! You … you need to leave, _now _! It will come back ! It's gone for now, but it always … come back !"

"What will come back, Sakai-san ?"

"The monster," he babbled. "It … it took their minds, those who came here first. They brought everyone down here, put them in front of that … that _thing_, and it drove them crazy. They prayed to it … and then they gave themselves to it. I … I was the only one who didn't … who didn't …" His words trailed out, before he suddenly lifted his right hand in Shirou's face, showing him the talisman he was clutching with cramped fingers : "My grandmother gave me this when I was a kid. It … it burned when they dragged me down there … kept me sane when the others went mad." He sobbed. "I wish … I wish it hadn't kept me alive. The things I have seen … Leave me here. Go … Go before it comes back …"

"I am _not _leaving you here," replied Shirou firmly. "Come on."

Gently, Shirou put his right arm around Sakai's back and lifted him up, beginning to walk toward the exit. The man obviously needed medical attention – he would come back here to investigate once that was taken care of. Sakai continued to whisper that he needed to leave, but he didn't dare to go too quickly – the talisman may have kept him alive, but there had to be limits to its power, and Sakai was on the verge of death already.

They were half-way to the cavern's entrance when -

_Click._

Shirou froze in place at the sound, feeling Sakai shudder and twist under his hold. It had come … it had come from the pit.

"It's coming," the older man moaned, terrified.

_Click. Click. Click click click click click click click click click -_

Shirou turned just in time to see _it _emerge from the pit.

It was enormous. Over five meters high, though it was hunched over. Its outline was – vaguely – humanoid, with two forward limbs and two backward ones. But it was an amalgamation of bones and rotting corpses, some of which still wore the tattered remnants of the Mihashira security forces.

Its "face" was made of a several heads whose flesh had run like wax, forming a nightmarish mix of eyes, mouths and teeth. It groaned as it pulled itself out of the pit, clawing at the stone with claws made of snapped bones. The reek of rot and death was stronger than ever, and the cold had grown intense enough that the stone around the pit was beginning to freeze over. Shirou felt as if the creature's mere presence was sapping his life away, and the talisman in Sakai's hand burned even hotter, keeping the monster's aura from affecting him.

Dropping Sakai to the ground as gently as he could, Shirou drew his two tonfas, pouring prana into them as the monster crawled toward the two of them with surprising speed. He leapt to meet it, and smashed its front with both weapons, putting all of his strength behind the blow. Bones splintered, pieces of rotten flesh flew off, and bile spurted, forcing Shirou to twist out of its way.

But the creature didn't even seem to notice the damage. It lifted one of its forward limbs and swung it at Shirou. In a split second, Shirou realized it was too huge and too fast to dodge, and raised his arms to block the blow, Reinforcing his entire body along with his weapons to absorb the impact.

He had underestimated the creature's strength. The "arm" shattered the two tonfas like matchsticks, the impact pushing Shirou's arms away before smashing into his chest with enough strength to crack his ribcage and send him flying across the room. He crashed onto the stone floor, his back hitting the ground first. Lights danced before his eyes as he pushed himself on all four, eyes darting left and right, searching for something he could use to focus the monster's attention on him.

There were scraps of cloth and body armor there – the discarded pieces of the monster's victims, he realized. And there, amidst the debris, miraculously intact, was a gun, with the emblem of the Mihashira Conglomerate emblazoned on its handle.

Shirou's eyes flashed as he Grasped the weapon. A flow of information flooded his mind, which he triaged with the ease born of long practice. The gun had been fabricated in the same factory as the swords he had seen so far, using the same advanced techniques and materials. But what really mattered to him was that it was still in working condition, and had nine bullets left in the magazine.

He reached for the weapon. Even if he managed to hit the creature with it – which was a big_ if_ since he had never held a gun before, and his Incarnation status didn't grant him any special advantage where firearms were concerned –it likely wouldn't affect it. It wasn't as if it had done its previous owner a lot of good, after all. But perhaps it could draw its attention and make sure Sakai was safe while he tried to figure out a way to actually escape with the man.

His fingers closed around the gun – and the w_O_Rl_d_ ShaT_T_e_r_ed.

* * *

_H__e__ stand__s__ on the black sands, which run red with the blood of demigods. The air is thick with screams of hate and madness.  
__H__e__ see__s__ the warriors __of three banners__, retreating from battle and running toward h__im__ and h__is__ brothers. __They are wounded, brought to the brink of defeat by the defenses built by those who waited for them. __They think __he and his brothers__ are their salvation.  
__In h__is__ hands, __he__ hold__s__ a sword and a pistol. __He__ ha__s__ carried them through a hundred campaigns, and the sight of them is more familiar to h__im__ than that of h__is__ own naked hands. T__hey __feel__ heavier __now__ than they __ever __have. But __he has__ h__is__ orders, and h__e knows__ what must be done  
__There is no choice in this. There never was. __He knows this, too. __And so, when the order is given, spoken aloud by another of his brothers, he obeys.  
__H__e__ aim__s__, and __he__ pull__s__ the trigger. H__is__ shot hits a warrior of the Hydra in his armor's gorget. The bolt was crafted in secret forges in preparation for this war, and it pierces through the metal w__ith ease, severing__ the head of this son of Alpharius. T__he__ body takes seven more steps before falling.  
__It is the first of h__is__ kind that h__e has__ ever killed, and h__e does not even know his victim's name.  
__He wonders, __even as he fires again and again, alongside the thousands at his side who unleash death upon those who believed them b__rothers__ :__ how many more will there be, before this nightmare ends ?  
__B__ut he cannot stop. He has no choice. He repeats that truth to himself, over and over again, every time he kills another of his own kind. He forces himself to believe it. He has no choice. He has no choice. He must do this. They _all _must do this. It is the only way.  
__It must be. It must be. It _must _be.  
__Because if it is not …  
__If it is not, then he is …_

* * *

The vision … _(No. Not a vision. Never a vision. A__ memory__.__)_… it hurt. The remembrance of it sickened Shirou to his core. He was … he had … No. _No. No no no no no no no wrong no wrong wrong wrong WRONG …_

_Traitor._

_Oath-breaker._

_Heretic._

_Butcher._

_Kinslayer. Kinslayer. K__INSLAYER -_

_MONSTER NO NOT HIM HIS HANDS BLACK SANDS RED BLOOD THE GUN IN HIS HANDS_

Shirou screamed in pain and anguish as guilt for a sin not his own overcame him, and he fell to the ground, eyes wide open but seeing nothing. There he laid, limbs twitching with pain, the traces of his Reinforcement fading away. Pieces of the gun that had triggered the vision slipped between his nerveless fingers, his grip having shattered the weapon during his convulsions.

The monster of melted corpsesapproached the collapsed boy slowly, cautiously. Somewhere deep within what passed for itsmind, it remembered to be wary of the smell of the boy. It lowered a clawed hand toward the unconscious boy's head …

_Thump._

A fist weakly hit the monster in its side. By itself, it would not have even been noticed – not when there was such enticing prey laying before the creature. But the fist held something within it, something old and sacred, infused with the strength of a man's desperate faith. With surprising agility, the monster jerked back, seeking to put distance between it and the source of its pain.

"L-leave him alone," sobbed Natsuo Sakai, forcing the words past dry, cracked lips. His stick-thin legs trembled as he fought to keep his emaciated body standing, and put himself between the collapsed teenager and the abomination.

This was not thanks to the power of the talisman he held, for all that relic could do was keep the monster at bay and sustain the flickering embers of his life. This was the strength of an ordinary man whose body was on the edge of giving up, whose mind had been ground down by the horrors he had witnessed, but whose will stubbornly refused to surrender.

The monster gazed down at its victim, incomprehension flickering in its bouquet of stolen eyes. Then the flickering vanished, replaced by bestial hatred, and the monster roared at the man, poisonous spit leaving its many mouths in a foetid breath. In the hand of Natsuo Sakai, the talisman glowed, burning the hand that held it, and began to crack as what power it held was overwhelmed by the strength of the monster's focused fury.

Yet Natsuo remained standing, for he had seen too much, and would tolerate no more.

"Leave that kid alone, you monster !"

* * *

_There is nothing but pain._

_I cannot move. I cannot think. My mind is broken, my will sundered by revelation._

_I do not understand what I have seen. I do not know the meaning of the names, I do not know the context behind this abject _betrayal. _All I know is the sin of it all, the _evil _unleashed upon the universe on those black sands._

_My hands held the gun. My fingers pushed the trigger. My my my my my my my my my my …_

_My fault._

_I am not the hero who saves. I am the monster people need saving from._

… _Am I ?_

_I see a man looking down at me, tear-filled face full of joy as he pulls me up from ash and ruin._

_I see purple eyes, looking up at me in wonder from a pit of nightmares._

_I see …_

_I __see__ a light in front of me. Someone is standing there, between me and a monster._

_Natsuo Sakai, something within me recognizes. The man I came here to save, if he could still be saved._

_Now he is saving me, __holding the monster that has broken him at bay.__ But he won't last long. He is too weak, and the monster is too strong. Surely he __k__nows__ that. __Surely he knows he will die if he does not flee._

_And yet he stands._

_I realize that he will die before he steps aside, before he gives up._

_He will die for me, and that is …_

_Wrong._

_No._

**_No._**

**_I refuse this._**

He understood now. He understood where the power that had let him save Sakura had come from. He did not _know _it – the context of those memories was still lost to him … but he understood enough.

And it didn't matter.

In the end, it didn't matter where that power came from. It didn't matter that the memory of the black sands threatened to make the bile rise from his stomach, that it made his very soul feel as if it would be torn asunder.

All that mattered was that there was someone who needed his help in front of him – someone who was risking his own life to protect him, despite their own fear, despite their own weakness, despite how much they had already suffered. How could he simply lay there, while he was being saved again ?

He could not. He _would _not. Because in the end – just as he had told his father years ago, under the light of the moon – all that mattered was the choices they made.

Shirou's hands closed into fists, so tightly his nails drew blood from his palms, and he stood up.

If his focus slipped, even for an instant, the conflict between who he was and who the person in the memory had been would tear him apart – literally, as the power inside him ran out of control. His Circuits would explode, his flesh would be broken and scattered across this unholy temple. Even Avalon would not save him from death then.

But …

He was Shirou Emiya_. _He was the son of Kiritsugu Emiya, a man who had dedicated his life to saving others, and had lost everything he held dear as a result. He was heir to the Magus Killer's impossible dream, and Sakura Matou's hero. This nightmare memory of treachery was not, and would never be, _him._

Because whoever it was that had stood upon the black sands with his brothers' blood on his hands …

… whoever it was who had broken their oaths to Humanity …

… whoever it was who had turned their back on the dream they had sworn to defend …

… whoever had rejected their own free will to hide from the weight of their own guilt …

… it wasn't him. It wasn't Shirou Emiya. And so, in the end, it came down to a simple choice :

To master this power, or to let it master _him._

Shirou _chose._

**_This is not who I am._**

**_This will _never _be who I am !_**

**_I am …_**

█ ██ ███ █████ ████ ███████ ███ █████ ██ ████.

Wings formed of shadow spread behind him, and black lines blazed on his skin as his eyes burned darkly gold. Suddenly, in his right hand was the familiar weight of the great monster-slaying sword, pulled from a time before it had become as tainted by treachery as the warrior who wielded it. His Circuits were burning, and he could feel the awesome power he was drawing from somewhere deep within him.

He also felt pain, monstrous pain. His body was burning, breaking apart under the strain and repairing itself, again and again. Within him, Avalon blazed, drawing upon this flow of power to heal him even as that very power was killing him. He could feel the Noble Phantasm straining to use the power he was calling forth, to force it into its fey structure. The pain was monstrous – even a first-rate Clocktower Magus would have been driven mad and lost control.

But pain was an old friend to Shirou Emiya, and this torment was nothing compared to the agony of the sheer distortionbetween who he was and who the power's original owner had been.

He stood, and put his left hand on Natsuo Sakai's shoulder. The man would have jumped, had he had the strength.

**"Thank you,"** he said. **"You can let me handle it now."**

It took a few seconds for the man to react, to process the words he was hearing. When he did, he fell backwards, and Shirou caught him deftly in the crook of his left arm, lowering him to the ground while keeping an eye on the monster, which had warily retreated as Shirou rose.

A quick look at Sakai confirmed that the man had fallen unconscious. Shirou needed to take care of _this _quickly, so that he could get to the far more important business of getting him to a hospital.

**"I see you,"** Shirou said to the abomination towering above him. And he did.

With his golden eyes, he saw past the stitched and melted corpses, held together by strands of arcane power. Past the creature's monstrous appearance, and into the truth of its nature.

He caught glimpses of the spirit's past as he peered into its very heart. He saw a mansion built of still-living, rotting trees – a cauldron bubbling with all the plagues of the universe – a Garden of infinite scope and malice – robed figures kneeling before the altar, offering up their own flesh as sacrifice so that it may rise from the pit …

He saw a battle – men and women holding shining swords, bringing purity into the den of abomination. He saw these heroes defeat the monster, each slice of their blessed swords cutting off a sliver of its power and weakening its hold onto physicality until its body fell apart and its spirit was imprisoned within the pit with prayers and Magecraft. He saw them raise the_torii_gate at the entrance of its temple and collapse the only tunnel that led down into it, sealing the monster in its own lair – dead but not destroyed, merely sleeping. He _tasted _its bitter hatred, and the slow corrosion of the seals that had been placed upon it, until all that held it back was the packed earth that cut it off from any soul it may corrupt and draw strength from.

He saw the core of the monster's essence, a ravenous desire to bring rot and corruption to all things, to pervert all natural order and twist it into a never-ending, never-changing state of un-life.

The creature recoiled before him, hissing in fear and hatred. It could sense his intrusion into its past, and it despised him for it.

The feeling was mutual. He … he _hated _it, he truly did. This surprised Shirou, even in his current altered state of mind, fighting to keep control and not succumb to horror again. Not since facing Zouken had he felt something like this. Even the part of him that wasn't – _that wasn't him, that would never be him_ hated the creature.

**"I see you, servant of decay,"** he repeated. **"Handmaiden of rot. Defiler of bodies, of minds, of souls. You have no place here !"**

He brought the sword up to his shoulders, holding it horizontally in a two-handed grip, and the monster flinched. For a moment, the two of them stood facing each other – and then Shirou moved.

The stone beneath his feet cracked as he burst into motion, striking forward with his sword. The monster dodged almost out of the way, but the blade still scored a deep wound into its shoulder.

It struck back at him with its claws, and Shirou turned his sword around to block the attack. This time, when the blow landed, he remained standing, his black wings pulsing with power as they held him in place. With a roar, he _pushed_, and the monster stumbled as its limb was forced back.

He leapt forward, holding his sword in two hands, and delivered a horizontal cut that caught the retreating monster on what passed for its torso. The blade cut deep, and black ooze spilled from the stitched corpses – yet that physical damage paled in comparison to the hurt the sword's power had inflicted upon the sorcery that animated the monster.

Its many mouths opened, spitting gobbets of foul-smelling liquid at him. He twisted in mid-air, dodging most of them, and blocked the rest with his sword. The stuff hissed as it tried to eat into the Traced metal – and failed.

With a beat of his wings, Shirou plunged at the beast, and his sword bit deep into its stolen flesh. It shrieked as black, rotten blood erupted in tainted torrents.

It screamed at him then, howling its hatred of him and the World. It pummelled his psyche with images of decay and madness, of the horrible things that it had made the excavation team do to each other and to the construction workers. It showed him the precipitous descent into degeneracy, the monstrous sacrifices, the self-mutilations and the ultimate offering of their own flesh and souls so that it could manifest fully into the material universe, poisoning the World with its cankerous existence.

It amazed Shirou that Natsuo Sakai, who had seen all these things, had retained even the modicum of sanity he had displayed. But Shirou had seen worse. His mind flashed back to his very first memory – _black sun and crimson skies, the stench of burned and corrupted flesh, the screams of the dead and the dying – _and the familiar horror brought with it a renewed determination.

_I will not fail, _he swore. _I will save Sakai-san. I will avenge those it has killed. I will protect this city._

And there were other thoughts amidst those that could be called heroic, too – thoughts of the girl who waited for him, of the promises he had made to her. He could not die here, not if it meant breaking those vows. Not if it meant abandoning her.

_I will survive. I will go home._

**"Until all oaths are fulfilled,"** he said, gritting his teeth as he plunged the blade deeper. **"Until the last monster is slain. Until the World is free."**

The monster clawed at him even as it fell on its back, smashing its forelimbs into his body with enough strength to shatter stone, but Shirou remained unmoving, his skin now almost entirely covered by the black lines of his unique brand of Reinforcement.

**"I will not give up !"** roared Shirou Emiya as the power within the Traced blade finally broke through the last of the monster's defenses and reached its blasphemous heart. **"I will not surrender ! I will not relent !"**

Panicking, the monster twisted and turned, trying to dislodge Shirou – but to no avail.

"Begone," he declared, and once again, the sword in his hands _ignited._

As it had done to the rotten soul of Zolgen Makiri, the sword ███████ ████ obliterated the creature's essence, reducing every strand of its existence to nothingness.

Without the sorcery holding it together, the monster's patchwork body fell apart, and Shirou landed on the stone amidst a shower of bones and rotting, rapidly liquefying flesh.

Hatredburned within him, hot and true and not his own, warring with pain, horror and grief. Shirou's sight swam as darkness crept in – darkness, and other images held within it. He forced his mind away from its grip, trying to force the power he had drawn upon back down. It resisted him every step of the way, but eventually the black lines faded from his skin, the wings vanished and the radiance of his eyes waned. Yet it was not gone – not completely. Shirou could still feel it burning inside him, coursing through the handful of Circuits he had not managed to shut down. It hurt, but it was a pain that Shirou could force himself to ignore.

When Shirou's vision returned, the cavern was just that – a cavern. Creepy, sure, but not supernaturally so. The vile presence that had been imprisoned there for centuries had been banished entirely; not simply sealed this time, but obliterated forever. The altar of black stone had splintered as if it had been cleaved in two, the unearthly sigils carved into the black stone now no more than meaningless shapes.

Shirou stumbled back to where Sakai laid on the ground, ignoring the pain of his overworked muscles, and examined the unconscious man who had risked everything to protect him. Sakai's hand had been charred by the talisman, the entire palm of his right hand covered in a burn that replicated the pattern that had covered the object. The talisman itself fell into pieces as Shirou lifted Sakai onto his shoulders, the fragments turning to dust as they hit the ground.

Shirou's walk back up was far slower than his descent had been, every turn of the spiralling path a struggle, but eventually he made it to the elevator. The corpse of Ochiyo Mizusawa was still there, exactly where he had left it.

Slowly, gently, Shirou put Sakai down and pressed the command button. Groaning and shaking, the elevator began to go up, and Shirou let himself fall on the floor, breathing heavily.

The trip back up seemed to be even longer than before, though it only felt this way because of his pain and exhaustion. Shirou took the opportunity to gather his thoughts and plan his next move.

He had done it. He had saved the man he had come to find and slain the monster responsible for the deaths of the construction crew and the Mihashira security team. But there was much yet to do, and many questions yet unanswered. First, he needed to get Sakai to a hospital and figure out a plausible story he could tell the medics. Then he would have to make it back to the hotel before Fuji-nee noticed his absence. He checked his watch, which had miraculously survived through the battle. Somehow it was still only a few minutes past eleven PM. With any luck, he would make it to the hotel before midnight …

The elevator suddenly stopped, jerking Shirou away from his thoughts. He blinked, his awareness returning to his immediate surroundings. He and Sakai were in the elevator cage, which had reached the surface and the foundations where the shaft had been dug …

… and all around them were over twenty men and women wearing the same kind of uniform he had seen on Mizusawa's corpse, aiming guns and rifles at him. There was a helicopter nearby, which had landed directly into the hole. It, too, wore the emblem of the Mihashira Conglomerate.

For several seconds, it was all Shirou could do to blink as he stared at the corporate security forces. He … he had not expected that. And clearly, judging by how nervous they seemed, neither had them.

Someone in a hazmat suit and holding some kind of tablet broke through the circle of guards and aimed the device at Shirou and Sakai. After a few seconds, it beeped, and the figure visibly sagged in relief before addressing the rest of the Mihashira personnel :

"They are clean. Lower your weapons, everyone."

As the figure in the hazmat suit removed his hood, the security forces followed his order, holstering their weapons and stepping back from the elevator.

"Sorry about that, sir. We needed to be cautious, in case something tried to get out."

"I … I understand," replied Shirou, though he did not – not completely. A group in a different type of Mihashira uniform approached the elevator, assisting Shirou out of it and toward the second elevator that led out of the foundations and to the rest of the construction site.

"Medics !" said one of them as they saw Sakai. "We have a survivor in need of help."

"He has been starved for weeks," said Shirou, stopping and turning to address the one who had called out. "And he was subjected to … horrible sights down there. He needs medical and psychological help."

They nodded back. "Understood, sir. Don't worry, we will take care of him." They turned to another of their own : "Prep the chopper for medical evacuation and call base."

Even as Shirou was brought back up, he kept his gaze on Sakai. The Mihashira personnel brought a stretcher and carefully laid him down on it, before carrying him to the helicopter. As the elevator reached the top of the foundations, the helicopter's blades began to rotate, carrying the white-clad medics and their patient off.

Part of Shirou felt that he should have asked more questions before letting them take Sakai away … but he didn't know just how much these people knew of Magecraft, and in his state, there was no way he could fight back against so many armed people without breaking the rule of secrecy.

A woman in the same uniform as the deceased Mizusawa – her own ID badge named her as Atsuko Kurata – brought Shirou to a small tent that had been hastily erected in the middle of the construction site. Inside were a handful of chairs. She gestured for him to sit down while she pulled a cell phone from her pockets and dialled something on it.

"Here, sir." She handed him the phone after a few seconds. Tentatively, Shirou brought it to his ear, while the woman immediately left the tent, leaving him alone, with the electrical lamp resting on another chair the sole source of illumination.

"Hello ?"

"_Hello, Shirou Emiya," _replied a male, perfectly composed voice.

"Who are you ?"

"_Who I am is irrelevant. In this conversation, I speak for the Mihashira Conglomerate. __For simplicity's sake, you may call me __K__odai__."_

That was … a strange name, to say the least. But it would have to do. Shirou had a lot of questions, after all – and he might as well start with the obvious one.

"How do you know who I am, Kodai-san ?"

"_Your face was recorded when you broke into the construction site and we dispatched our response team. Since then, I have been doing some research to identify you. Given your participation in the ongoing archery tournament in the city, it wasn't difficult to find out your name – though a deeper investigation into your background certainly proved interesting."_

"There weren't any cameras when I checked before entering," Shirou said, even as all kinds of alarm bells were ringing in his head.

"_Of course not,"_ scoffed Kodai. _"Come on, Emiya-san. We are professionals. If you could have seen our __e__yes__, I would need to have words with __t__hose responsible for placing __them__ – stern words. __Our watchers had strict instructions to simply observe, and to send a warning if anything got in or out of the Bounded Field.__"_

"Why didn't you send people in sooner ?"

"_We did. Weeks ago, when the reports from the excavation team stopped, we immediately dispatched one of our special teams. I believe you saw for yourself how well that turned out ?"_

"Yes," admitted Shirou. "They … they all died in the temple. But clearly you have more people -"

"_You underestimate both your own skills and the scale of our operations, Emiya-san,"_ cut off the Mihashira representative. _"The team we sent in first was one of our best, and they were wiped out __t__o the last__. We have other teams, some more qualified, bu__t __no__t __many of them__, and they were all already engaged elsewhere. That is why we had to resort to cordoning the area off while searching for more qualified personnel, or until one of our other teams finished their current assignment."_

There was a pause as Shirou considered Kodai's words. It made sense … though it still begged the question of _why _the Mihashira Conglomerate had been interested in the underground temple in the first place.

"_If I may ask,"_ continued Kodai, _"what happened to the entity that was sealed within the temple ?"_

"It attacked me and Sakai-san," replied Shirou. Then, seeing no reason to hide the truth – after all, being thought of as capable of defending himself could only be useful right now – he continued : "I destroyed it."

"_You … actually destroyed it ?"_ For the first time, there was a note of surprise in the other man's voice, though Shirou couldn't help but feel that something was wrong with it. _"Are you confident of that, Emiya-san ?"_

"Yes. I know it was only imprisoned the last time it was defeated but this time – it's gone."

"… _I am impressed, Emiya-san. Not many could have come up against such an entity and survived, let alone defeat it. But to destroy it … you understand that we will need to send our own experts to confirm the entity has been removed from the World, of course. Can you tell me how you did it ?"_

"I cheated," said Shirou without elaborating further. "Can _you_ tell me what that thing_ was_?"

"… _Yes. If our research was correct, y__ou would know it as __a _shikome_, __one of the handmaidens of the goddess Izanami __according to __ancient __legend – __though of course the myths weren't quite true, as those things always are__. __It was imprisoned h__ere__ centuries ago, in what was at the time a remote rural area. But the city expanded, and eventually reached it.__From that point on, it was inevitable that someone would stumble upon it, sooner or later. __That is why we bought the land and began construction to cover our excavation efforts."_

"_W__hy ?_" he almost growled, holding his anger back only by reminding himself than pissing off a major conglomerate would be a poor idea. "People _died _because of you – a _lot _of them. Your own employees were driven mad and offered themselves as sacrifices to this … this _thing _! _Why _in God's name would you do such a thing ?"

"_Would you rather this shrine be uncovered by another construction company, one without any connection to the Moonlit World ? Things didn't go as planned, I admit, but you must see it would only have been worse if someone else had unearthed t__he _shikome_. __As I said : from the moment the boundaries of Kumamoto City reached the site, it was inevitable that the entity would eventually be able to influence those dwelling above. The team __attached to the construction crew was tasked with making sure the work did not disturb the temple. Unfortunately, from what we have been able to piece together, the ancient seals had already been eroded through by the time they reached the temple to get more data __in order to perform a complete exorcism, or else reinforce the existing seals__. __But it appears that, d__espite our precautions, the entity affected them, turning them into its service."_

"Then," continued Shirou, following the reasoning, "they captured the construction crew – which was made all the more easy by the weapons they were no doubt equipped with – and dragged them below to expose them to the _shikome_'s influence in turn. From what I saw, it … it built itself a body from their corpses. But it was _huge. _It wouldn't have been able to fit through the tunnel leading to the surface, let alone the elevator ..."

"_Indeed. __We were all fortunate that this entity, for all its power, wasn't very bright. The Bounded Field was put into place to make sure it couldn't get more servants until we could send someone capable of dealing with it once and for all."_

"… Fine, I believe you," Shirou gave in. "But I still have questions."

"_Of course. I will answer what I can, though you will understand that there are some secrets of the Conglomerate that are not mine to share."_

"Yes, I do. First : what do you intend to do about this whole … incident ? You can't sweep the death of so many people under the rug – at least not for the construction crew. If you could, _I _wouldn't have been here in the first place."

"_Now that the incident has been resolved, I already have people on it. Tomorrow, the newspapers will publish a story about the __tragic accident __at the workplace __that claimed the lives of the construction crew. Their families will be given a comforting lie and appropriate compensation, I assure you."_

"And what about Natsuo Sakai – that's the man I rescued from the temple ? He survived, but he knows what really happened."

"_I promise you that Natsuo Sakai will be given the best of medical care, and _will _make a full recovery. We will have to alter his memories, of course – he will remember being stuck underground after a collapse, and surviving for weeks in terrible conditions. It _will _be a traumatic experience, but we will do all we can to support him and assist him in overcoming it."_

"What proof do I have you won't simply kill him to clean up the loose ends ?"

"_Emiya-san. We are not the Clocktower. We are a company that operates in the eyes of the public. Yes, some of our activities are best kept out of sight, but we try to operate according to at least the most _basic _of moral guidelines – and that includes taking care of our employees."_

Shirou didn't answer. Eventually, a sigh came from the other end of the line.

"_But if you need a more pragmatic reason for sparing Sakai-san : being seen taking care of the lone survivor of this disaster will do wonders for our PR, _and _keep us from becoming enemies with you."_

_T__hat _Shirou could believe. Though he knew many would consider his ideals naive, he did not think himself so. He knew people could be selfish, and act in their own self-interest even if it meant others would suffer : years of working for the Fujimura Group had made sure of that. And he also knew that corporations were far worse than people in that regard. It was _possible _that the Mihashira Conglomerate genuinely cared for its employees … but Shirou wouldn't have bet on it. Even if Kodai himself did, a company the size of the Conglomerate was all but guaranteed to have very little in the way of empathy.

"_I have to say, Emiya-san, I am pleasantly surprised by your concern for our employee's well-being. It isn't exactly the kind of attitude one would expect from a Magus."_

"I am not a Magus," replied Shirou automatically. "I think of myself as a Magecraft user only."

"_Indeed ? Interesting. __But if you weren't here to investigate the temple, what brought you to the construction site ? I somehow doubt you just happened to pass by and noticed the Bounded Field."_

"I was asked to look into Sakai-san's disappearance," replied Shirou cautiously. "He has friends in Fuyuki who noticed he wasn't answering phone calls and letters and knew I was going to Kumamoto City for the tournament."

"_I see. I suppose things turned out for the best. Even our most efficient Magecraft practitioners wouldn't have been able to destroy the _shikome _as you say you did."_

"Speaking of Magecraft users," Shirou prompted, "the team you sent in the temple knew about Magecraft, didn't they ? But they didn't seem like magi either. I am not sure the Clocktower would approve of that. In fact, I am rather certain they would not."

"_We have an understanding with the Director of the Clocktower,"_ said Kodai, sounding amused at Shirou's blatant fishing for information. _"__Japan is an old land, with many old secrets that the nobles of the Clocktower would happily pay any price to obtain … whether it be in money or lives. The Director understands the necessity of keeping these secrets from the hands of those who would abuse them in their pursuit of the Root. Since you are already affiliated with the Moonlit World, I can reveal to you that one of the Mihashira Conglomerate's purposes is to help __maintain__ its secrecy in Japan, as well as to protect the relics of the Age of Gods in this country. __This is accomplished both by actions such as the one that occurred here, and by making sure that the European Lords of the Clocktower continue to regard the East as a backwater good only for breeding inhuman bloodlines.__"_

"And what are your _other _purposes ?"

"_One of them is profit, of course," _shamelessly admitted Kodai. _"We are a corporation, after all, and need to appease our stockholders and finance our operations across Japan. For the others, I am afraid you would need to work for us first … which segues nicely into the next part of our conversation."_

"You want to hire me ?" asked Shirou, nearly flabbergasted. He had not foreseen that turn of the conversation.

"_We __would certainly be interested with it, once you have finished your education – hiring highschoolers doesn't really look good on the books__. __The Mihashira Conglomerate employs many … Magecraft users ourselves. The Special Division has a training program to teach the rudiments of Magecraft to those best suited for it, in order for them to be more effective in the field. __They__ combine modern technology with basic Magecraft in order to accomplish their missions.__ From what I have found about you, __you do not__ share the common magus' distaste for modern methods and tools. That alone would be enough to make you worthy of notice, but you are so much more than that, aren't you ? __As one would expect of _Kiritsugu _Emiya's adopted son."_

"… you know of my father ?" asked Shirou warily. Kiritsugu had warned him – many, _many _times – that there were a lot of people in the Moonlit World who despised him, sometimes for good reasons, and that some of them would seek to take their revenge on him if they learned of his relation to the Magus Killer.

"_Of course. The Conglomerate has__ hired your father in the past, to help deal with ... rogue elements. __Similar to what happened here__, in fact. Unfortunately, relics from the Age of Gods are dangerous to deal with, even for trained personnel. The attrition rate within the __Special__ Division is ... substantial. __That is why we often need to resort to freelance personnel. Your father was a very effective contractor. We were sorry to hear of his death during the Grail War, even if it seems that he _didn't _die during it as the rest of the Moonlit World believed. He _is _dead now, isn't he ?"_

"Yes," admitted Shirou. "My father died years ago from the wounds he received in the Grail War. But you … You know about the Grail War ?"

"_Of course we do. Were it not for our agreement with the Wizard Marshall, we would never have allowed it to continue. Given the advancement of technology, we are not looking forward to helping contain the next one in a few decades."_

"If you couldn't deal with the situation _here_, I find it difficult to believe you could have stopped a Grail War with Servants and Masters," said Shirou bluntly. The laughter that answered him sent a chill down his spine.

"_Understandable, Emiya-san … But believe me : we could. It would cost us, but we could."_

Shirou contemplated the implications of _that _for a few seconds … before sighing.

"Alright. I understand what happened now – more or less. And I am flattered that you want to hire me, but that's something I would need to think about. For now, I will trust that you will take care of the situation here, and I will tell Sakai-san's friends that he was caught in an accident at his workplace that put him out of contact for some times – hopefully the story will break before I need to."

"_That would be for the best. I believe we will have reason to speak again __in__ the future. __You have done us a favor, Emiya-san : __though such was not your intent, the Mihashira Conglomerate owes you a debt that__ will not be forgotten."_

"You are welcome," said Shirou, standing up to leave. Pain flared through his legs, and he caught his breath as he stumbled before reasserting his balance.

"_You __s__ound__ in need of medical attention. I can help you obtain it discreetly, if you so desire."_

"No," he gasped. "Sorry, but I don't trust you quite that much yet."

"_Understandable. I hope that will change in the future. Goodbye, Emiya-san."_

"Goodbye, Kodai-san."

The call ended. Shirou left the tent and handed the phone over to Kurata, who was waiting by the entrance. She not-so-subtly indicated the closest exit of the construction site, and Shirou made his way out with a final nod to the Mihashira employees.

Hopefully he could make it back to the hotel without being noticed. A few hours in his bed meditating should help him bring his Magic Circuits under control and recover from the worst of his exhaustion.

* * *

By dawn, Shirou had realized that he just _might _have been overly optimistic.

He had _not _recovered. Avalon was pulsing within him, but the power he had called up refused to go down. Because the scabbard was focused on keeping him alive, it wasn't dealing with less important issues – which meant that he had a pounding headache, and every muscle in his body hurt from the efforts of the previous day. His entire torso was one giant bruise where the _shikome _had struck him – it had been a challenge to change without the others noticing it and asking awkward questions about where it had come from. The cracked ribs, at least, had been healed during the battle itself; he didn't think he would have been able to hide _that _from his roommates.

He hadn't slept at all, except for a few moments of trance when he had managed to use meditation techniques to have a part of him focused on containing the alien memories while the rest tried to relax. It had cleared his head a bit, but also made his headache worse.

Mundane doctors could not help him with whatever was wrong with him. He needed Sakura's help, and probably Tohsaka's too. And while his situation appeared to have at least stabilized during the night – it had been a couple of hours since the pain hadn't gone worse – he wasn't going to take risks and wait another day before going home.

Unfortunately, using Magecraft in his current state – even the minor effort required to use hypnosis – would be astupid thing to do. Fortunately, his guardian and adoptive big sister had a tendency to worry about him overmuch.

"I think yesterday's competition may have taken a bit more out of me than I thought," he told Taiga at breakfast, having forced himself out of bed – despite the worried looks of his seniors, who had all but ordered him to get back to bed and let them tell the teacher he wasn't feeling well. "I think … I think I should go home, Fuji-nee."

She took one hard, long look at him and sighed.

"You are barely standing up, you dolt. OK, fine. Everyone, go to the gymnasium and get ready. I am bringing this idiot to the train station and making sure he gets on the first train to Fuyuki. Tell the organizers that my ward needed to return home before the end of the tournament. If they ask why, tell them it's none of their business."

The seniors nodded, though Shirou could tell none of them were going to be as blunt as Fuji-nee was suggesting. Mitsuzuri was biting her lower lip as she looked at him, clearly worried. He smiled weakly at her.

Within an hour, he was sitting on a bench at the station, ticket in hand, waiting for his train. Fuji-nee had left after accompanying him – it had taken some effort to persuade her that he didn't need her help to get onboard and that she should return to the tournament.

Despite his exhaustion and the growing heat of the July morning, Shirou didn't need to struggle to remain awake until his train arrived. He was too busy fighting the tumultuous power roiling within him.

His mind was so preoccupied that it was only when the train had already left Kumamoto City that he realized he hadn't called Sakura to warn her of his early return.

_I really need to get myself a cell phone, _he thought, looking through the window and not really seeing the rushing countryside. Sakura wasn't going to be happy about him not calling her in advance. Hopefully Tohsaka was still at the Emiya residence – though he did not look forward to _her _dressing him down for forgetting to warn them in advance that he needed help.

Despite the ongoing pain of his muscles, his skull and his Magic Circuits, Shirou smiled slightly. If the worse thing that happened today was him being scowled at by the two teenage girls, he would accept it gladly.

* * *

AN : Well, that took longer than anticipated. I really struggled with the fight scene, mostly because those have always been a weak point of mine. Hopefully I managed to give justice to the confrontation.

So, the truth - or at least part of it - of Shirou's strange abilities are revealed. And he didn't take it well to say the least. Yes, the spirit that merged with Shirou's broken soul in the Prologue was - at some point - a warrior of the Traitor Legions, who opened fire on the loyalist at the Istvaan Massacre. Considering Shirou's own nature, I believe his violent reaction to learning that truth is appropriate.

The _shikome _and the Mihashira Conglomerate are more new elements to the F/SN universe. While the former was intended as a catalyst for Shirou's "awakening", the Conglomerate is going to be a recurrent character (can you call a corporation a character ? I am not sure).

Next chapter, we return to Fuyuki. I believe it is time to use the time-honored tradition of Fate games : the Deus Sex Machina. We are seven chapters and around 70k words in : it's about time Shirou's harem grew !

As always, I look forward to your reactions on the events of this chapter. I look _less _forward to the inevitable accusations of ignoring the lore I clearly said I would depart from, but I will have to learn to take that in stride if I want to continue this story - and I very much do. If you notice anomalies and contradictions within the confines of the lore established for this story, however, please point them out.

Oh, and formatting continues to be a challenge, so please be sure to tell me if you see something strange on that front, too.

Two more things : first, as promised, here is the list of topics I had to research for the Kumamoto arc.

Depth of a skyscraper's foundation, along with surface and height.  
Kyūdō history and tournaments.  
Kumamoto city and Prefecture.  
The hour of sunset in Japan in 2003.  
The speed of elevators used on construction sites.  
Japanese Mythology.  
Japanese gun control laws.  
How long a human can survive without food and with very little water.  
The temperature of underground caverns.  
Japan's cellphone history.

If I ever travel to Japan and they have access to my browser history, I expect the border guards will have some questions to ask me.

Secondly, here is something I realized a few weeks ago. I published the following blob on SpaceBattles immediately, but I couldn't do the same here :

_"See, after spending entirely too long researching the Japanese school system, the dates at which the school year start and end, and the timeline of F/SN, I realized that I messed up._

_By the time the War starts in canon F/SN, Shirou and Rin are in their second year of high school, while Sakura is in her first._

_Also, according to the visual novel, the War starts in JANUARY 2004 (end of the month, most events happen in February)._

_Japanese school year starts in April and ends in March. That means that in order for the timeline to make sense, Shirou and Rin should be in second year of highschool from April 2003 to March 2004._

_Which in turn means they should have been in their first year of highschool from April 2002 to March 2003._

_Which in turn means they should have been in their third year of middle school from April 2001 to March 2002._

_... Except that in A Blade Recast, Shirou and Rin are in their third year of middle school in December 2002. I believed (not sure why) that the school year in Japan started in January and ended in December._

_So let's add another ten months. The Grail War will start in December 2004, so that Shirou, Rin and Sakura are all in their appropriate grades. It will probably mean I need to change the birthday of Rin and Sakura, but screw it, it's an AU, I can do that._

_Would anyone have noticed if I had just fudged the dates/grades ? Probably not, but I have noticed, and now I won't be able to write until I have fixed it._

_That's what I get for trying to be precise about dates and ages in what is supposed to be a fix I write to relax._

_... Also, I need to go back in time to punch myself for putting these stupid timestamps at the start of each chapter. THAT backfired."_

There. Now you are up to date.

Stay safe !

Zahariel out.

**EDIT 13/05/2020 : Changed the date at the start of the chapter from _July 22nd, 2003 AD_ to ****_July 21st, 2003 AD _: the previous chapter clearly indicated that Shirou descended into the depths long before midnight. Apologies for the mistake.**


	9. Chapter 8

**_July __2__2__nd__, 2003 AD – __Emiya residence_**

The scent of Sakura's cooking was filling the Emiya household as Rin and her sister ate lunch. The Second Owner had helped Sakura prepare the meal, and while she held no illusion on her skills compared to the purple-haired girl, she was a little proud that she had at least learned enough over the last months not to be a hindrance at least.

The last night had been embarrassing for both of them, as they went to sleep in the same room after years of separation. It had become even more so when Sakura had half-woken up in the middle of the night and freaked out when she had realized 'Senpai' wasn't near her. Fortunately, they had slept in the same room. Rin had been woken up by her panicking sister, and before she had fully shaken off her sleep she had been hugging Sakura, holding her close and cooing soothing noises into her sister's ear.

After a few minutes, Rin had been fully awake, and completely out of her depth. Thankfully, embracing Sakura had been enough to calm her down eventually.

Later, as they sat together in the darkness, Sakura had told Rin that she and Emiya didn't spend _every _night together. Sometimes Emiya came home late due to his work for the Fujimura Group, and didn't want to disturb her. But though she had kept it a secret from her lover to avoid making him feel guilty, the truth was that Sakura _hated _sleeping alone. And so Rin, grateful that the darkness had hidden her blush, had gone back to sleep with her sister hugging her.

It had been … nice, despite the heat of the summer night. They hadn't shared a bed since they had been children, and they had been separated long before such a thing would have become awkward. Another thing they had lost because of Tokiomi Tohsaka's choice to give his youngest daughter away to the Matou family.

It had taken her a long time to fall back asleep, though, which had made getting up in the morning painful. Sakura had teased her about her state when getting out of bed – Rin was not a morning person, even when she hadn't spent the previous night working late on her Magecraft. It was the same reason she had missed Emiya the day before : by the time she had arrived to the Emiya residence, he was long since gone.

After finishing their meal, the two of them discussed their plans for the afternoon while cleaning up.

"I was thinking we could go over the basics of Magecraft one final time," said Rin, "then we can check your progress on the more advanced stuff."

"That sounds fine," answered Sakura, before suddenly turning her head, something between a smile and a frown on her face.

"Senpai ?" she murmured, before putting down the plate she had been cleaning and walking toward the entrance. Rin followed suit.

Seconds later, the front door opened. Sakura must have sensed the new arrival passing through the Bounded Field.

"Senpai !" Sakura beamed. "You are … already … back …"

Sakura's speech stumbled as she took in Emiya's appearance. Rin didn't blame her : her own eyes widened as she saw him.

His face was pale, and there were dark circles around his eyes. He was swaying on his feet, and there was sweat running down his forehead. She had never seen him looking so … so _vulnerable_.

"H-hey, Sakura, Tohsaka," he greeted them lamely. "I … I am back."

"S-senpai ?!" Snapping out of her shock, Sakura rushed to Emiya's side, fretting over him."What's wrong ?! What happened ?!"

"Fuji-nee sent me home early when I looked like this in the morning," he began to explain, making his way to the main room and almost collapsing next to the table, Sakura standing over him. He took several deep, pained breaths before continuing : "I … I need your help, and probably … Tohsaka's too."

Sakura turned toward Rin, but before her sister could say anything, Rin replied :

"You have it. But I need details, Emiya-kun. What happened to you ?"

He smiled, weakly. "Thanks, Tohsaka. Long story short, there was … there was someone my Yakuza wanted me to find in Kumamoto after they stopped reporting in. It turned out they had been captured by a demon and locked inside a buried temple under a construction site. I destroyed the demon and rescued them, but … I have been in that state ever since_._"

Rin blinked. Once, twice. Then her mind caught up with the madness Emiya was speaking.

"You _what ?!_" she almost shrieked.

"I destroyed the demon," he repeated, correctly identifying the part of the whole thing she had the most trouble with. "And I think the method I used to do it may be killing me now."

She blinked again, before shaking herself. "Don't move," she growled, before running her hands across his body, deploying her own Structural Analysis spell as she did so. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized just how much was wrong with Shirou.

"Your Magic Circuits are completely out of alignment, and your core keeps pumping od through them at random. Your body is overheating from the overdose of mana. There is … something inside you that's healing the damage almost as soon as it appears, which is the only reason you are still alive."

"Avalon," whispered Sakura. "Senpai got it from his father. It's what he used to heal me after he saved me."

"Sounds about right," groaned Shirou. "I … ugh !"

He started to convulse, and for a moment straight black lines appeared on his skin, while his eyes glowed darkly gold. Rin heard Sakura gasp, and she sensed Emiya's od spike, power radiating from him.

The attack – whatever it was – only lasted for a few seconds, after which Emiya appeared to relax, nearly collapsing before both girls caught him. Rin checked his vitals with another use of Structural Analysis – he was stable, the surge of od had passed.

"Sakura," she asked, "what were those black lines ? I could see you recognized them."

"I … I don't know, but Senpai had them when he saved me. He told me he didn't know what they were either – they just … appeared when he confronted Zouken."

"So _that _was how you did it," muttered Rin under her breath. "Must be an inhuman inheritance of some kind. As much as I would like to get a sample of your blood for analysis, we may not have that much time."

"N-nee-san ?" Sakura's voice was trembling. "Will Senpai be okay ?"

"I will be fine, Sakura." The target of her question had apparently recovered from his fit. "I …"

"You are _not _fine, you moron," snapped Rin. "Didn't you hear me ? This stuff inside you, _Avalon_" -and by the Root, wasn't that the scabbard of King Arthur ?! Where had his father found something like that ?! - "is keeping you alive, but if it stops working, you won't last long. Here, Sakura, help me get this idiot to bed."

"Not bed," the idiot in question murmured. "The … the shed. Get me inside the circle."

"The shed ? Why would you want us to take there ?"

"It's where our Workshop is, Nee-san."

"Your Workshop," Rin repeated, eyebrows twitching. "Your Workshop is in the shed."

"Yes," the two lovers answered at the same time.

"You … you … argh. Nevermind. Let's get you there, then. I need to save you so that I can kill you later."

Together, Rin and Sakura carried Emiya back outside and across the garden as gently as possible. Sakura opened the shed, revealing the Workshop of the Emiya family. Most of it was occupied by mechanical parts, and there was a bookshelf in one corner containing the books Rin had gotten for Sakura's training. A few of the tools were thaumaturgical in nature, but nothing like what the Clocktower families would have expected from the dreaded Magus Killer's heir.

Sakura rolled up the carpet at the center of the shed, revealing a Formalcraft circle of surprising quality. Even Rin herself didn't think she could have traced something more complex.

They laid Emiya down in the circle, which immediately began to glow.

"Are you feeling better ?"

"A bit."

"Alright. Talk to me," Rin ordered. "Tell me what happened to you in as much detail as you can. Starting with that 'demon' you mentioned."

"Yeah. I mean, I _think _it was a demon … I am not well versed in supernatural creatures." He glanced at Sakura before continuing, a hint of reluctance in his voice : "It had brainwashed the construction crew, and made itself a body out of their corpses. The person I was looking for had been captured, but was protected from the brainwashing by some kind of talisman …"

It took several minutes for Emiya to finish his tale, with Rin asking questions at several points.

"And that's it," he finished, telling them how he had been told by Fujimura-sensei to go home even if the tournament wasn't finished yet. "I thought my condition had stabilized, but if anything, I think it's actually gotten worse since I arrived in Fuyuki."

"The city _is _built at the conjunction of several powerful ley lines. It would explain why this circle is helping," murmured Rin, still reeling from Emiya's tale. If she hadn't known better, she would have suspected him to have made up the whole thing. Because really, a missing person, an abandoned construction site, a buried temple, an undead monster, a megacorporation with ties to the Moonlit World ?!

And _of course _Emiya had gotten himself involved into it all just because he had wanted to do a favor for an acquaintance. _Of course._

"Out of everything you just told me, I can't believe you were dumb enough to provoke a national conglomerate that apparently dabbles in the Moonlit World on the side. What were you _thinking ?!"_

"I wasn't really thinking at all," he admitted. "I was still shaken from the fight, and all I could think of was that I couldn't let Sakai-san die, not after everything he had been through."

Rin shook her head. She could wonder about Emiya's abysmal luck and lack of diplomatic skills later, just like she could drill him for details about the Conglomerate's supernatural branch. Right now, she had work to do.

"So," she said. "It looks like I was wrong. Admittedly, I don't know as much as I would like about inhuman bloodlines, but hallucinations like what you described aren't supposed to be a symptom. This sounds a lot more like possession, to be honest."

"That's also what I thought," said Shirou. "It was already there when I rescued Sakura. Without it, I wouldn't have been able to destroy Zouken."

Given what he had told her of Zouken's nature at the time, it seemed that whatever was inside Emiya had a particular antipathy for unnatural entities. That was … good ? Probably ?

"Do you have any idea how it could have happened ?"

"The Fire," he replied. "It had to be in the Fire. Dad told me once that even with Avalon implanted inside me, he had been surprised by how quickly and well I recovered from it."

Rin shivered. Possession was a nasty, nasty business, made even worse by the fact that in Emiya's case, it had likely been ongoing for _years. _How much of the lovable goof-ball she knew was really 'Shirou Emiya', and how much of it was the influence of whatever had found its way inside the body of a traumatized, heavily injured child ?

The fact that the spirit had reacted badly to Emiya touching a _gun _of all things was even more bizarre. Perhaps the spirit hailed from the wars of the Sengoku Period, where firearms had become more widespread. Had Fuyuki been the site of a battle during that time ? Given the amount of magical energy that had been unleashed at the catastrophic end of the Fourth Grail War, it was possible that such a spirit would have been awakened … though not how that spirit had been powerful enough to possess Emiya and grant him the kind of power the boy had displayed. A gestalt, then, composed of a great many soldiers, perhaps coalesced around an older spirit ?

Rin's mind rushed through her history lessons, trying to find a match for the scene Shirou had described to her – a battle fought on black sands with guns and swords, where one side's reinforcements had betrayed their allies at the last moment. There couldn't be that many of those, but she couldn't think of any. Maybe a trip to the library for some history books …

Aaargh ! She didn't have enough information. All she could come up with were half-cooked theories, and those weren't what Emiya needed right now. Anathema to the way of the Magus as this might be, she had to figure out how to _fix _the problem before thinking about finding out _why _it had happened.

She spent a few more moments examining him, adding every new piece of information to her mental picture, all while furiously thinking. After half an hour of scans, prods and tests, an idea began to crystallize in her mind. As it became clearer, her face turned more and more red, until she suddenly stood up, stepping back from the circle.

"I need to speak with Sakura in private, Emiya-kun," she declared. "Will you be fine on your own for five minutes ?"

"I didmake it home on my own, Tohsaka." When Rin glared at him, he sighed. "Yes, I will be fine. The circle _is _helping."

"Come along, Sakura. Don't worry, this won't take long."

Sakura followed her sister outside of the Workshop, closing the doors behind them. Rin didn't go far, turning around to face her in the middle of the garden. She was blushing, and looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"There … there mightbe a way to help Emiya-kun," she said, sounding as if she really didn't want to say it out loud.

"Really ?!"

Sakura made no effort to hide her joy. Seeing Senpai in his current state had been hard – knowing that he might die from it … No. She stopped herself from thinking about it. She refused to even consider the possibility.

"Y-yes," answered Rin, taken aback by the intensity of her sister's reaction. "When I was examining his Magic Circuits, I realized that a fresh infusion of prana from someone who isn't going through whatever he is experiencing right now might help stabilize his core."

Sakura nodded. "How do we do that ?"

"Well, we couldhave him drink blood, but given that we don't know the nature of the spirit with which he has been paired, that could be extremely dangerous. Which, with how little time we have, leaves us with only one option."

"Which is ?" pressed Sakura. Rin muttered something under her breath. "I didn't hear you, Nee-san."

"I said … I said a tantric ritual !" shouted Rin, her face completely red. Sakura blinked, and then blushed as well as she remembered what that word meant.

"An infusion of prana might solve the issue, but in order to make it a permanent fix, we need to establish a bond – a contract of sort." Speaking about the technical aspect of her idea did not lessen the blush on Rin's face in the slightest. "That way, if he needs to use that weird 'power' of his again, he won't immediately be in the same situation afterwards. I think. Maybe."

"So … I need to have sex with Senpai ?"

Rin winced, before bravely forging on :

"No. We will need to _both _participate in order for this to have the best chance of working. I am an Average One : my prana will help balance the elements within Emiya's body. And your own Imaginary Element should help 'bleed off' the excess energy, for lack of a better term."

"… are you sureabout that ?" asked Sakura. "It sounds plausible, but also … far-fetched."

"No ! No, I am not sure ! I am making this up as I go along, Sakura !" Rin knew she was ranting now, but she couldn't stop herself. "There is no precedent for this that I know of ! I mean, Incarnations are already stupidly rare, but to have one that's been possessed by an unidentified spirit for Root knows how long ?! And thenadd into that an Average One's prana and your own Element, which as far as fath- as far as I know, is even rarer, and how all of those might interact with one another ?!" She took a deep breath to calm herself down. "But … it mightwork. And Magecraft is all about belief, about imposing our own will on the rules of Gaia because we know – not just believe, but_ know –_that our spells will work."

"… Alright." Sakura nodded to herself, her expression determined. "You are right, Nee-san. We need to try something, and we don't have any other ideas. Let's get back in and tell Senpai."

"Huh ? I … I can't help but notice that you didn't say anything about me having sex with Emiya-kun, Sakura."

"Oh." The younger girl blinked. "I am fine with that, Nee-san."

"How can you be 'fine' with that, Sakura ?! I know you love the moron !"

"I do," she admitted without a hint of the shame that had once all but consumed her. "And I know just how great Senpai is, so it's normal that other women would fall for him."

"That's … there is a difference between that and letting someone else have sex with your lover, Sakura."

"Hmm. I suppose that would be the case for normal people," Sakura admitted. "But neither Senpai nor I are 'normal', Nee-san. I know that Senpai loves me. That he will never, ever abandon me. So I don't mind if he takes other women as his own – I know that I will always have a place in his heart."

The sheer trust and devotion in her sister's words amazed and unnerved Rin. She had known that Sakura loved Emiya – that, after all she had gone through, she was dependant on the boy to a frankly unhealthy degree. She had been getting better since her rescue from the Matou family, but there was no denying that Emiya was always going to be the center of her existence.

_She doesn't think of Emiya as "hers", _Rin realized. _She thinks of _herself _as "his"._

It made Rin glad that Emiya wasn't a Magus. The thought of someone with a typical Clocktower mindset having such a hold on her sister was disturbing to say the least.

"Also," Sakura continued, a strange smile on her lips that slightly worried Rin, "it would piss off Father immensely to see both his daughters giving themselves wantonly to someone like Senpai."

"I am not wanton," protested Rin. "And I didn't 'fall' for him," she added weakly, finally processing Sakura's first comment.

"Yes you did, and you would be if Senpai wanted you to," pointed out Sakura. To her horror, Rin found that she couldn't honestly deny it.

It didn't stop her from trying, though judging from Sakura's smile, her attempts at persuasion were less than effective.

* * *

In the end, they did it together. It took a lot of effort to convince Emiya that yes, this was the only way to keep him alive, and no, he couldn't refuse out of concern for Rin. The fact that even explaining that she was willing to have sex with him wasn't enough for the blockhead to understand her feelings was enough to make Rin want to scream.

The three of them embraced one another on the cold floor of the shed Emiya dared call a Workshop, within the magic circle, to make sure that no amount of energy was wasted. Rin forced herself to ignore her embarrassment, focusing entirely on performing the ritual with the same single-mindedness that was required to perform even the slightest of Magecraft.

Even if she hadn't loved Emiya, she knew she would still have done this. She couldn't let her sister's savior – the man she loved more than life itself – die, not in addition to all the other ways she had already failed her.

Performing a tantric ritual with just two participants was difficult enough. Both needed to climax at the same time in order to lower their defenses and allow the connection between their cores to be established, something anyone with even a modicum of experience would know was easier said than done. With three participants, it was even more difficult, but Sakura and Emiya were fortunately intimately familiar with each other's body. After several tries, they learned Rin's own weak spots, and eventually succeeded in completing the ritual.

It wasn't how Rin had imagined her first time, but she had to admit to herself – and to no one else – that it hadn't been a bad experience. Not at all.

Power flooded from the connection they had forged and into Rin and Sakura's own od reserves as the pressure in Emiya's Magic Circuits equalized. The Formalcraft circle glowed even brighter as their bodies overflowed with energy.

The tumult of energy within Emiya's body abated. He fell back, exhaustion finally catching up with him – despite his state, he had stubbornly insisted on doing his part in the ritual.

Rin managed to catch his head before it hit the hard floor. He was already asleep.

"It worked," she whispered.

She could feel the connection between them, even now that the initial rush of prana – and God, there had been a _lot _of magical energy – had stopped. Her own od was flowing into Emiya's Magic Circuits, stabilizing his core, while Sakura was drawing the excess.

Rin had underestimated just how much power Emiya had been producing out of seemingly nowhere, but she had also underestimated how much of it Sakura would be able to absorb. Her miscalculations had thankfully cancelled each other, and left her more than a little in awe of the two other Magecraft users' abilities.

"Thank you, Nee-san," said Sakura softly, gently stroking Emiya's hair.

The two girls got up and cleaned themselves using the towels and water left in the Workshop to clean after any experimental mishap. Rin moved slowly, her muscles aching in unusual places.

"My back hurts," Sakura casually mentioned. "We should make sure to do it on a bed next time."

Rin turned toward her, face reddening once more.

"That … that was a one-time thing only !" she spluttered.

"Well, of course," replied Sakura, still smiling, the enjoyment she was taking in teasing Rin obvious. "It would be difficult to lose your virginity twi-"

The two girls froze at the same time. Here, in the Workshop that served as the anchor for the Bounded Field surrounding the Emiya residence, both of them could sense the alarms going off, like a carillon of bells warning that someone with a _lot _of active prana had crossed the threshold.

* * *

_A moment ago_

Bazett Fraga McRemitz looked at the house of her target. The Enforcer, wearing her usual suit and gloves, stood on the slanted roof of a neighbouring house, having already hypnotized the owners so that they wouldn't notice her.

Her journey to Japan had been long and uncomfortable. In her opinion, the Archibalds had been cautious to the point of paranoia – but then again, given the reputation of the Magus Killer and what he had done to the last Lord of their family, she couldn't really blame them. She _could _blame them for being cheap bastards who had only paid for second-class train tickets and a smuggling boat that she had been surewas going to sink halfway to Japan.

And after all of that, she had found out that her target wasn't even in the city anymore.

Kirei had actually looked embarrassedwhen she had arrived to Fuyuki only to learn that Shirou Emiya had left the city on a school trip that would last several days. As a matter of fact, he had left that very morning. It had been the first time she saw the former Executor flustered, and the sight almost made the entire trip worth it. As an apology, he had provided her with the funds to secure food and lodgings until her target's return.

Bazett hadn't wanted to waste the time until then by playing tourist, however. She had scouted ahead, taking note of the police officers patrolling the streets near her target's residence and of the men in suits that came to quietly speak with them at dusk. _Yakuza_, she had recognized – organized criminals who had bargained with the authorities for some degree of leeway in exchange for keeping their activities to an acceptable level.

Once her initial scouting of the area had been complete, she had started her watch, pausing only for short breaks to eat. Her training allowed her to remain in such a position for days without any loss of her fighting strength.

She had watched as Rin Tohsaka entered the Emiya residence, welcomed by Sakura Matou. Neither girl had gone out since. That was fine : it was best to know where all the players were before she made her move.

Her vigil had been rewarded when Emiya had returned just as she came back from a brief lunch break. She had almost missed him, but he hadn't seemed in top condition from that brief glimpse before he had gone inside. In fact, he had looked outright sick.

The Bounded Field around the residence kept her from sensing what was happening within, but she had still seen the Matou and Tohsaka girls carry Emiya outside and into a smaller structure in the garden. A few moments later, despite the wards, she sensed a spike of energy, and made her decision.

Now was the best time to strike. Whatever the three of them were doing in that shed, such a peak of energy would leave them drained of od. Even if they had been performing a spell to heal Emiya, it couldn't have been instant – and even if it was, she would rather face Emiya restored and the girls drained than have to fight and hurt the girls themselves.

In a single leap, she jumped from her observation post, across the street and over the wall, and landed right in front of the shed. She sensed the Bounded Field wash over her, and tensed as her suit's defenses turned aside the single layer of defenses – something to keep unwanted visitors away, she reckoned. Weird. She would have expected better from the Magus Killer's own home.

Seconds after her landing, the door of the shed slammed open, and the Tohsaka and Matou girls emerged. They didn't look drained of magical power; indeed, if anything, they seemed to … overflow with barely contained energy. Interesting. And, potentially, worrying.

"I am Bazett Fraga McRemitz," she called out clearly, "Enforcer of Magus Association. The Clocktower has questions for Shirou Emiya, Sixth Head of the House of Emiya, regarding the murder of the Matou Head and the destruction of the Matou lineage."

"Oh ?" Bazett had to give Tohsaka credit : she didn't sound worried at all about facing off against an Enforcer. "I wasn't aware that the Association had sent someone here. As Second Owner, your presence here without my permission is illegal, _Enforcer. _If you remove yourself from my city at once, I will ignore this brazen transgression against my authority."

"Miss Tohsaka, while your authority over Fuyuki isn't in question, your judgement in that particular case was considered compromised." Bazett's gaze flicked to the purple-haired girl before returning to the Second Owner. "I am aware of your relationship with Miss Matou. If you cooperate, I will guarantee your and your sister's safety. I assure you that I can protect you from whatever threats Shirou Emiya has been using to ensure your obedience since he killed her adoptive family and took her under his wing."

"What are you … Of course. Kirei told you that, didn't he ? Meddlesome fake priest," she spat. "Regardless, if you think I am going to let you just waltz in and kidnap Emiya-kun, you are mistaken. My sister is_ not_ being used against her will to force me to go along with Emiya-kun's demands. Shirou Emiya has not done anything that threatens the secrecy of Magecraft, nor has he committed any crimes against the laws of the Association. Whatever you have been told, there is no legal excuse for your presence here tonight, Miss McRemitz. _Leave. Now."_

"I can't do that. I have been given a mission, and we Enforcers always finish our tasks. An ancient Magus lineage has been slain, with its last heir captured by the killer, and you, Miss Tohsaka, covered it up, before investigating another such lineage at the behest of that same killer. Yes, your research into the Einzbern wasn't as subtle as you thought. Whether you admit it or not – whether you _realize _it or not – the Association has more than enough reason to want to ask Shirou Emiya questions."

"I made sure that the Association knew that what happened between Emiya-kun and the Matou Head was a personal feud," retorted Rin, "and me investigating another family with ties to my territory is hardly illegal. Don't take me for an idiot, Miss McRemitz. The only reason you would be here is that someone higher up the food chain wants to take a swing at Emiya-kun. Who was it ?"

"The Archibalds," Bazett admitted without hesitation. "They worry that the son of the Magus Killer has succeeded his father, and taken a more proactive approach to securing victory when the next Grail War starts. With the last Matou under his control and the last Tohsaka under his influence, it seems he now has turned his gaze toward the Einzbern family. Given what happened to their Lord in the last Grail War, the Archibalds are keen to prevent another family from going through the same thing."

"How caring of them," said Sakura Matou, speaking for the first time, her head down, her face hidden behind her hair. "So. You have come here to capture Senpai and bring him to the Magi of the Clocktower so that they can cut him apart because they are jealous of him, or because of what his father did to them. How _noble _of you."

The sheer venom in the young girl's voice was making even her sister uncomfortable. She raised her head, revealing eyes that gleamed with prana and cold fury.

"I am here for Shirou Emiya only," Bazett tried one last time. "If you don't want to get hurt, move."

"_You will not take him,"_ said Sakura, and for a moment Bazett thought that the girl's shadow had just_ twitched_.

She sighed. "Very well."

She swung the long, cylindrical container she had been carrying on her back to the ground, and raised her fists.

"Have it your way."

It was the Tohsaka girl who made the first move. Her left arm jerked up, and a blast of black energy erupted from her extended finger, straight at Bazett. The Enforcer punched it aside, the runes on her glove glowing as she channelled her od inside them.

Rin Tohsaka let loose curse after curse, her Magic Crest pulsating with impressive power as she channelled her od through it. Bazett recognized them : Gandr curses, something which was a staple of the Edelfelt family. Where had the girl learned it from ?

Pouring prana into her feet's Reinforcement, Bazett jumped from side to side, dodging more of the black orbs while slowly closing the distance. The Matou girl joined in the onslaught, conjuring spears of shadows and throwing them at Bazett. Unlike Tohsaka's Gandr, the Enforcer didn't recognize that particular spell, but while she was confident her runes-layered suit could withstand them, it was best not to risk it.

The girls were good – unlike most Magi she knew, they had obviously practiced with battle situations in mind – but she was better. Within moments, she had reached them, and before either of them could react she had her hands around their throats and was holding them up effortlessly.

"It's over," said Bazett in a cool, collected tone. "Give up, girls. You can't beat me. I have been holding back all this time, but I won't if you don't stop."

"Give up ?" whispered the purple-haired girl, and Bazett couldn't help but pause. "_He _didn't give up, and neither will I."

_Something _moved in the girl's shadow, and Bazett let go and leapt backward just in time to dodge the two-dimensional _ribbons _of all things that burst from it. Even then, she couldn't avoid it completely, and it caught the cuff of her suit – cutting right through the Rune-warded fabric without even slowing down.

Bazett suppressed a shiver. If _that _had caught her body, she would have died – no two ways about it. She had thought the Tohsaka girl was the more dangerous, but it seemed that the Matou heir also had teeth – and was willing to bare them in defense of her kidnapper.

As she landed, she felt the power that radiated from the girl. It was huge, it was coming entirely from within the girl herself, and Bazett could feel the raw _malevolence _within it. Whatever hold Emiya had on the girl, whatever means he had employed to make her follow her family's murderer, at that moment, the girl _hated _Bazett with an intensity the Enforcer had never encountered.

Even her sister was taken aback at Sakura's transformation. Her hair had turned white, her eyes were burning red, and straight lines of black and red ran over her face and exposed skin.

"Sakura ?" The Tohsaka Head called out tentatively, keeping an eye on Bazett despite her obvious shock. "What are you doing ?"

"This is … Senpai's power," whispered Sakura Matou, looking at her own hands in adoration, before glaring at Bazett, her eyes glowing. _"__You will not take him !"_

"So he _did _experiment on you, then," Bazett frowned. "Don't think that trick will be -"

She was cut off as a bombardment of black spears and flowing ribbons was unleashed in her direction. She dodged, and the ground where she had stood was obliterated.

"Fine," sighed the Enforcer. "Then I guess I will have to beat you up until you are unconscious, and _then _deal with my actual target."

Sakura fired her strange Magecraft again and again – was there no end to the girl's od reserves ? Bazett kept dodging, keeping her distances, measuring how much time passed between each volley, and -

_There._

Bazett's entire body glowed as she infused it with prana, and she charged forward, holding her arms before her face. Her every step left deep marks in the ground, and she heard the air around her crack while her vision swam as she neared the sound barrier. She slammed into a stop right in front of the Matou girl, whose scarlet eyes widened in shock at her sudden proximity.

Before she could react, Bazett punched her in the guts, pouring almost all of her strength into the blow. She felt something crack, before Sakura was briefly sent flying, crashing into the shed with enough strength to make the entire structure shake.

"SAKURA !" screamed the Tohsaka girl, running to her sister's side. Bazett let her, her attention fully focused on her downed opponent.

The red and black lines on Sakura's skin faded, along with the glow of her eyes. Her hair returned to its purple color, and she slid to the ground, groaning.

"_Stay down_," snarled the Enforcer.

Inside the shed, within a circle that had been drawn almost a decade ago by the King of Knights acting at the behest of an Einzbern homonculus, a pair of golden eyes snapped open.

* * *

AN : There is nothing like spending hours writing a long monologue for Bazett explaining her circumstances and motivations before realizing that it serves no purpose at that point in the story and cutting it out. A thousand words, gone up in smoke, just like that. Hopefully I can recycle some of it later on, and writing that blob of text at least made the situation clear in my mind.

Rin has been added to Shirou's harem. Considering the source material, I believe a tantric ritual to save Shirou's life is an appropriate way for the Tsundere to acknowledge her feelings and take the final step.

To clarify : Sakura hasn't gone full Dark Sakura like she does in the _Heaven's Feel _route. When Shirou saved her, her connection to the Grail was completely severed. It's just - I had written the tantric ritual and was struggling with the fight scene, and then I realized ... Sakura had a _lot _of power she had gotten from Shirou still inside her. Considering the origins of that power, I think that her physical transformation makes sense. Even the hair changing color - it's not her original one, after all. More details about her transformation will be given in following chapters.

I had to invent combat spells for Sakura - after what she went through, I can't imagine she didn't want to learn how to defend herself when Rin taught her Magecraft. On that note, reading the description for the Imaginary Numbers trait certainly was ... inspiring. I will make sure to develop on that later on.

Next chapter will probably be shorter, so hopefully I can get it done quickly - I know full well that cliffhangers are annoying. After that, I will need to do some research.

Zahariel out.


	10. Chapter 9

_The __skies __of Terra __are burning.  
__T__housands of false stars shimmer and die __in catastrophic explosions__ as fleets of immense size collide. Weapons __powerful__ enough to __turn cities into their component particles__ are unleashed, and the mighty defenses of the Lord of Iron buckle against their potency.  
__As above, so below. Transhuman warriors battle, __their armored feet threading__ upon the corpses of defenders and attackers alike. __Newly reborn forests burn and young seas evaporate. __The air is thick with screams, and the Aether blazes with power. Far in the distance, he can taste the blood of mortals being spilled by the Ninth Legion – so much blood, __the stain of it __will never leave the Throneworld.  
__T__here he stands, amidst this frozen tableau of apocalyptic destruction.  
__He is strong, stronger than ever before. __He learned much in the Maelstrom, and in the final battle of Caliban. Around him are his brothers, and the mortal witches whose souls burn to fuel his works. __Great sorceries are __performed__ at his command, crashing against the wards raised by the sons of the Cyclops.  
__H__e is mighty. He is doing what must be done. He knows this, just as he knows that there was no other path – that all the deaths of this day, all the deaths that led to it, and all those yet to come, are necessary. __The False Emperor, who even now hides behind the Cavea Ferrum, must die.  
__He knows it. He _believes _it. __He is the son of Lion El'Jonson, __and he walked with his Primarch through the Crystal Labyrinth. He has seen the nightmarish future that must be averted, no matter the cost. And so he does all these terrible, evil things, and a__ccepts__ that there is no choice.  
__The boy does not.  
__H__e__ stands before the warrior, here on this ancient battlefield dredged from the monster's __past__. __T__here is a sword before him, stabbed into the ground. It is the mirror of the one at the Dark Angel's hip, __yet is__ unblemished by the corruption that suffuses warrior and weapon alike.  
_"_You are not me," Shirou Emiya says to the __memory of the __Chaos __Sorcerer__. "__And I will never be you."  
__H__e pulls the sword free, its blade catching the light from the burning heavens, and points it at the towering figure of the Dark Angel.  
__The Dark Angel cocks his head to the side – __the only motion in the entire dream that surrounds boy and warrior__. His helmet does not let any emotion through, __nor does any word leaves his vox-grill.  
__In that moment, Shirou catches a glimpse of _something, _something vast and terrible, lurking just beneath the surface of the warrior's appearance. __Something that isn't at this __frozen__ moment __of__ time, but _will _be, __in the grim darkness that will follow this devastation__. __Something powerful, strong enough that its p__resence__ r__eaches__ past the moment of its inception.  
__E__ven that glimpse is enough to fill __Shirou__ with hat__e__.  
__M__ist erupts all around them, and the sight of the Siege __of Terra__ vanishes. For a time, the boy sees nothing past the fog, hears nothing beyond his own, singular_ _heartbeat.  
__Then there is a scream of shock and pain, piercing through the mist. He knows this voice.  
__Shirou Emiya opens his eyes._

**_July 23rd, 2003 AD – Emiya residence_**

The first lesson every Enforcer learned on the job was never to underestimate their prey.

Most of the time, when the Enforcers were dispatched on missions by the Clocktower, it was to hunt down Sealing Designates or Dead Apostles. On occasion, the former might not be all that dangerous – those would be the magi who had been slapped with Sealing Designation because they possessed some trait that made them more interesting as research specimens than researchers, and had no influential patron to keep them from being dissected alive. But there were the others – those who had pursued forbidden avenues of research, often transforming themselves in foolish bids to access the Root through ill-considered paths. Underestimating them because they had been stupid enough to pursue those avenues in the first place, or because of how ridiculous some of them sometimes sounded or looked, was a quick way to get oneself killed.

The same was true with Dead Apostles. Many of them loved to toy with their prey by projecting a façade of innocence. The Enforcers still weren't sure if the trend of vampire fiction portraying the inhuman bloodsuckers as tragic, romantic figures was a ploy of one of the Ancestors to make preying upon Humanity easier. In any case, they at least knew the truth : that no matter how young or harmless a Dead Apostle may look, they were still a monstrous predator to take down with extreme prejudice.

To be a Magus was to walk with death; and for the Enforcers, that death could take _any _aspect. Holding back from their full strength in any way, shape or form, was a one-way ticket to dying, often in a most horrible and upsetting manner.

As the door of the shed _exploded__, _Bazett Fraga McRemitz realized that she had forgotten that lesson. She had focused on the girls in front of her, and forgotten about the threat posed by her actual target.

The heir of the Magus Killer was a terrifying sight, she wasn't ashamed to admit. His golden eyes blazed with power, his skin was covered in black lines akin to those that had been on the Matou girl's. Oh, and there was the little matter of the pair of wings that stretched behind him, looking as if they were woven of the shadows themselves.

He strode out of the shed like a wrathful dark god, leaving the grass charred black under his bare feet. His gaze turned to his right, where Rin Tohsaka was kneeling by her sister, looking at him in shock.

"E-Emiya-kun ?"

Emiya extended his arm, and a beautifully engraved gold and blue sheath appeared in his hand, shining in the afternoon sun. The object looked utterly out of place compared to Emiya's own demonic appearance. He tossed it to Tohsaka, who caught it clumsily.

**"Put that against Sakura and hold it there,"** he told her, before returning his full attention to Bazett. His voice was deep, and seemed to echo even though they were outside.

Bazett felt the weight of his gaze as if it were a physical pressure. It was as if he were looking right through her, dissecting everything she was with his eyes. Those were probably Mystic Eyes, but she wasn't sensing any attack on her, so they were probably for perception rather than inflicting effects upon the World.

**"Bazett Fraga McRemitz,"** he said slowly, pronouncing her name perfectly. **"I see you."**

That, thought Bazett, sounded a lot more ominous than it should have.

She had thought the contract to take him out sounded fishy the moment the Archibalds' agent had approached her. She had accepted it regardless, because she had become painfully aware that she _needed _a patron among the noble families if she was to ever rise in the Clocktower, even if she was one of the best Enforcers of her generation. She had thought it likely that the Archibalds had grossly exaggerated the threat posed by Emiya in order to justify their own grudge against his father.

Now ? Now, if anything, she felt the Archibalds had _underestimated _how dangerous the boy was. All records she had read before coming to Fuyuki had told that the Magus Killer, while a terrifyingly effective and amoral mercenary, had been a baseline human, with only a few tricks related to Magecraft. His reputation had been built on the heretical use of mundane weaponry and technology, along with a complete and utter disregard for the traditions and taboos of the Clocktower. But this ?

_There is no way he is completely human. Did Kiritsugu Emiya find him like this, or did he experiment on him to make him more able to fulfill his purpose ?_

"The son of the Magus Killer knows me," she replied out loud, keeping any nervousness from her voice. That was the second lesson Enforcers learned : never let them see you sweat. It was also, coincidentally, the first lesson noble brats were told by their families before being sent off to the Clocktower. "I don't know if I should be flattered or scared."

**"These eyes of mine see much."** _Yep, definitely increased perception of some sort._ **"Judging by the runes woven in your clothes … you are an Enforcer, yes ? My father warned me about your kind."**

"Did he now," she whispered under her breath, before speaking louder : "I am indeed an Enforcer of the Magus Association. If you stop … whatever it is you are doing … and surrender, I will bring you to the Clocktower, where you will be asked a few questions relating your murder of the Matou Head and capture of his Heir."

"Is that what you were told ? Even if that were true, I am not a member of the Magus Association. Only Tohsaka has any authority over me, and that's just because I live in her territory. Unless she called you here, which I know she did not, then you have no jurisdiction over me, Enforcer."

"You can't possibly think that will work," said Bazett incredulously. "Even if you aren't affiliated with the Association, you killed someone who was. There are _consequences _to that sort of thing. Or did the Magus Killer teach you nothing about the rules of the Moonlit World ?"

**"The affairs of Magi are of no interest to me, so long as they do not interfere with those I care about. But my father made sure I had some knowledge of your rules, and what I know does not paint your presence here favourably."** Despite its strangeness, his voice was still calm – but it was the calm of a silent sea in the hours before the coming of a city-wracking tempest. **"You have invaded the territory of this city's Second Owner without her permission. You have then compounded that insult by actually _assaulting _her. You have broken into my property, injured my apprentice and sought to enter my Workshop. Whatever brought you here is no official Clocktower business."**

She blinked. _Workshop ? _That shed ? Was he serious ? Wait, the Magus Killer was a renowned heretic. Maybe he was.

"Except that I am facing off against what looks like a fucking demon in the body of the Magus Killer's heir. Somehow I get the feeling that the big wigs will forgive me if I take out a threat like that."

**"I am no threat to the Lords of the Clocktower, nor to anyone else in the Association, so long as they do not attack me first."**

"Yes, well, you would say that, wouldn't you ? Except that you already have the blood of one family on your hands, and are using another to investigate a third. As I see it, you _are _a threat to the Clocktower."

**"Is this what you were told ? You were _lied _to. I destroyed Zouken Matou because he was a monster, and the only reason I asked Tohsaka to look into the Einzbern was because of the worm's last words."**

"Killing the Head of an old family because they are a 'monster' isn't a valid reason for the Clocktower. I am going to be honest and admit that your family name isn't helping your case either."

"The Archibalds sent her here, Emiya-kun," called out Tohsaka. She was still kneeling next to her sister, whose breathing had become easier since the sheath had been pressed against her body. That was some impressive healing there, Bazett noted.

**"The Archibalds ? … Ah. That would explain it. So you do realize, McRemitz, that you are being used as a pawn in someone else's petty revenge against my dead father ?"**

"Regardless of the Archibalds' initial motives for investigating you, your actions remain the same, and what I am seeing right now is making their interpretation of events, however self-serving, a hell of a lot more likely. One last time : _surrender_."

**"One last time,"** parroted the Sixth Head of the House of Emiya : **"_Leave_."**

"I cannot do that," she replied. "I have my orders-"

Her words died on her tongue as she immediately realized that had been the wrong thing to say. His eyes flared, his wings twitched, and his expression, which had so far been unnervingly calm, twisted into a mask of wrath.

**"You have 'orders' ? Orders justify _nothing_,"** he spat with seething contempt. **"Your choices are your own, Enforcer. As are their consequences."**

She breathed out. There wouldn't be any talking out of this, not that she had ever truly thought there would be.

"I suppose they are," she said, before taking a deep breath in.

Then she _moved. _All of her instincts were yelling at her to take him down quickly. The Matou girl had said that her weird transformation had been brought about by "Senpai's power", and if Emiya was the source then his attacks would be even more deadly.

Once again, she propelled herself forward at full speed, but this time, when she punched, she held nothing back. The air cracked at the speed of her fist, and it slammed into Emiya's chest with enough strength to turn the shirt he had been wearing into scraps of fabric.

Unfortunately, that was almost all the effect it had. Emiya grunted in pain, but he did not collapse, nor was he sent flying backward. The grass at his feet was scorched, but the earth wasn't gouged down as it would have been if he had managed to remain standing through strength alone. How …

_His wings, _she realized. _They absorbed my punch's kinetic energy somehow._

She had no evidence, but instinctively she was certain of it. These … _things_ that rose from her target's back were the reason he had been able to absorb her punch. It wasn't that his body was impervious to damage – if it had been hard enough to withstand her full-powered punch, her own fist would have been turned into a mess of broken bones and bleeding meat. Somehow, the kinetic energy from her blow had travelled through Emiya's body and simply vanished.

"What the hell are you ?!" she snarled, as she leapt back just in time to avoid a left hook that would have broken her jaw.

**"Truth is, I haven't the faintest idea. This is the first time I can do this and not lose myself."**

His wings beat once, and he was propelled forward. Bazett barely dodged his punch, bending under it before pushing on the ground with her right hand just in time to get herself out of a kick's way. He had some experience fighting unarmed, she decided, but nowhere near as much as her – it was his supernatural strength that made him a threat.

She pivoted on the ground, slamming her left heel into his temple with enough strength to turn stone into powder. The skin broke, but the skull held, and he didn't even groan before slapping her leg away. Bazett felt her ankle crack, and poured her od into Reinforcing her limb while powering through the sharp pain as she put some distance between the two of them and returned to her feet.

**"You are strong,"** he said, looking at her while ignoring the trickle of blood running from his temple. As Bazett watched, the trickle slowed and stopped, revealing unbroken skin. She had hoped giving away the sheath would have deprived him of any healing factor he may possess, but apparently she had been wrong. **"But know this, Bazett Fraga McRemitz : you will not hurt anyone else here today."**

He held his right hand forward, and just like the sheath before, a huge sword materialized in his palm. It was huge, almost as tall as him – and yet, despite the weapon's ridiculous size, he wielded it as if it weighed nothing.

She caught his first blow, slapping her hands on the flat of the blade and stopping it dead – before he pulled the weapon free and went for another attack.

The size and weight of the weapon should have created openings after each strike, but he wielded it like a rapier, never over-extending himself. Bazett was fast enough that she could keep avoiding the blows, but being on the defensive wasn't going to win that fight. She needed to use her trump card, but there were conditions to that.

A pained cry drew her attention to the shed. The Tohsaka girl was clutching her chest in obvious discomfort, while the air around her was rippling with heat. Her eyes were glowing, as was the sheath she held against her sister's unconscious form.

Emiya's head briefly turned toward them, and his eyes widened in what Bazett was fairly certain was understanding.

**"Dammit,"** he growled, turning back toward her. **"I didn't want to do this, but so be it. This has gone on long enough. It ends _now _!"**

He took his oversized sword in both hands, and switched to an overhead grip. The weapon started to glow as power was poured into its blade, and the black lines on Emiya's skin spread, running up from his hand and on the weapon. His wings grew in size, curling forward to cut off her retreat – and he charged, bringing his sword down in a diagonal arc.

If that attack hit her, she would surely die.

_Got you_, she thought. She extended her right arm, and the tube she had discarded at the beginning of her fight against the girls snapped open. A sphere of metal, imbibed with her own blood over a period of several weeks, jumped out of the container and locked in position next to her closed fist.

Prana coursed from her hand to the sphere, and a short blade erupted from it, inscribed with runes that had been old when Christianity had been born.

"_Answerer,"_ she shouted as Emiya's sword drew near, thrusting her Noble Phantasm to meet the attack head-on. _"Fragarach !"_

* * *

This was different, a small part of Shirou mused as he fought.

Twice before had Shirou drawn upon that power, which Rin believed came from some entity possessing him. Each time, his mind had … shifted gears, for lack of a better terms. He had done things in that state that he remembered, but his thoughts while he had been doing them had been unknown to him afterwards.

But not this time. Whether due to his newly forged bond with Rin and Sakura or some sort of epiphany brought upon by confronting the spectre of the Dark Angel, his mind was entirely his own this time. He could feel the power flowing from deep within him, where his soul and that of the Dark Angel were melded to one another in the supernatural heat of the Fire at the end of the last Grail War.

It hurt, but Avalon was healing the damage as soon as it appeared, and the excess power was vented out into Sakura's seemingly bottomless reserves, fuelling her own Traced copy of Avalon to heal her wounds.

Yet it was not enough. He was drawing too much power, and while only a sliver of it was pouring into Tohsaka through the connection they had forged, that fraction was enough to hurt her. He could not keep this battle going on too long, or she could get permanently hurt – she may even die, or lose her Circuits to overcharge. He could not accept that possibility, and so had sought to end the battle in a single blow. He didn't want to kill the Enforcer – her reasons for attacking them, while erroneous, weren't deserving of death – but if he had to choose between her life and Tohsaka's, the choice was all too easy to make.

Except the Enforcer had one trick up her sleeve, and as his sword met the short blade she had conjured out of that floating sphere of iron, Shirou realized that he had been played. His eyes took in the weapon even as his ears heard her speak its name, and time seemed to slow down as information flooded his mind.

This was more than mere Magecraft – this was a miracle from the Age of Gods, inherited down the generations by the descendants of those upon whom it had first been bestowed. He could see the history of the spell, imbued within the blade when McRemitz had crafted it and imbued it with her own blood. Even as the power of the Gods had faded from the World, the Fraga had preserved that one gift from the War God that they had once served.

This was a Noble Phantasm, the crystallization of a legend into a weapon. And this one was meant to serve as the ultimate counter-attack, designed to warp causality itself into a blade that would strike at the heart of the attacker _before _they could launch the attack that was used to trigger the Noble Phantasm.

With Avalon, Shirou _may _be able to survive a destroyed heart. The Everdistant Utopia was a Noble Phantasm too, after all. He doubted it very much, though, for it was likely Avalon wouldn't be able to regenerate a wound inflicted by a Noble Phantasm – not when the one using it wasn't the King of Knights. And even if he did survive, he would need immediate assistance, which McRemitz was unlikely to allow him.

The simple truth was, if Fragarach struck him down, he would die – or be forced to draw upon the Dark Angel's power to such an extant it may very well kill Rin, and transform him into the monster the Enforcer thought he already was.

Neither of those outcomes was acceptable, and so Shirou chose another.

For Fragarach was also called the Gouging _Sword_ of the War God, and before Shirou's Incarnated eyes, its secrets were laid bare. He wouldn't have been able to explain them if asked – he wasn't a good enough Magus for that – but in that moment, he _understood _Fragarach in a way that not even the reclusive Fraga clan could claim to.

He saw McRemitz's blood, saw where the iron had been mined and the process through which it had been shaped by night after night of careful work. He saw the rituals calling upon the ancient pattern that the Noble Phantasm had engraved upon the World, deep enough that many versions of it could exist on Gaia at once, the subtle differences between each Mystic Code enough to bypass the law of unicity.

And at the core of it all, he saw the divine authority by which the deeper laws of the World were subverted. It was mighty, woven of knowledge beyond mortal ken and infused with the echoing power of a god who, despite having long since departed the World, yet exerted his will upon it through the Fraga, his servants' descendants.

But the _shikome _had been called the servant of a god too. The power of pestilence and rot it had served was nothing alike Lugh, the Irish god of war who had bestowed the knowledge of his Noble Phantasm upon the Fraga. The_ shikome_ had been a disease, a corruption of the natural order, while Lugh's authority and power existed within the confines of the World. Yet the arrogance of it – the self-claimed divine right, the claim that Lugh could do away with the laws the rest of them had to live by, simply because he was a god, and mortals had to accept it – was the same.

Anger flowed through Shirou, hot and heavy, spreading through his mind like a black tide of outrage. What right did that woman have to kill him ?! What right did she have to break into his home and hurt those he loved ?!

What right did Lugh's proxy have to judge him, based on the lies of self-serving magi ?

None. This was not fair. More than that, this was not _just_, and he would not accept it.

_He would not._

In his hands, the Traced sword of a land of shadowed woods blazed with power, and a high keening sound emanated from the point where it met the unfolded blade of the Fragarach. It was the sound of the immovable object meeting the unstoppable force, and reality protested at the paradox becoming manifest. The power he had called upon was opposing Fragarach's properties, enforcing the proper chain of cause and effect. With burning golden eyes, Shirou saw the laws of the World twist and bend, unable to accommodate what was happening. But he did not relent.

He stared at McRemitz, who stared back with wide eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing – her invincible trump card being stopped, her assured victory being denied to her.

**"What the Gods have wrought,"** he declared between gritted teeth, pouring his indomitable will into every syllable, **"I will _s__under._"**

On that final world, the sword he had Traced from the fragmented memories of a time before Istvaan broke through Bazett's Noble Phantasm. Shards of iron flew in all directions, burying themselves into the earth, while the great blade resumed its arrested motion. Shirou could not stop it, even if he had wanted to. With its terrible power expended to destroy Fragarach, the sword had returned to being a construct of Traced metal, devoid of the supernatural properties that had allowed him to destroy Zouken without hurting Sakura. It was in this state that he had used it for the entire duel, for despite her assault on Sakura and Tohsaka, Shirou knew the Enforcer was no true monster.

His blow hit, though the Fragarach had altered its course. A brief silence fell on the battlefield, before Bazett Fraga McRemitz's right arm hit the ground, cut off at the shoulder.

* * *

Rin watched with wide eyes as Emiya overcame a Noble Phantasm and took down one of the most powerful Enforcers in the Clocktower. The later wasn't unheard of – but the former was … before now, she would have laughed at the very notion. Noble Phantasms were the lingering echoes of mythical weapons, far more powerful than anything modern Magecraft could achieve.

The Fraga fell on the ground seconds after her arm, blood pouring from her wound. Emiya stumbled, and in the moment between one breath and the next, his wings were gone, and the black lines on his skin were receding.

Rin let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She had spared with Kirei before, and thought she had some inkling of what a fight between two Magecraft users specialized in combat looked like, but this … this had been something else entirely.

"Tohsaka," the red-haired teenager called out to her, kneeling at the side of the downed Enforcer. "She is still alive. I need your help."

After checking that the sheath Emiya had given her (and wait a minute, had he pulled out a Noble Phantasm out of his own body … or worse – or better – managed to duplicate something that had been crafted by the Fae ?!) was balanced against Sakura's unconscious body, Rin made her way to Emiya's side.

"She is still alive," he said, gesturing at the Enforcer. Her breathing was shallow, and she was losing blood, but she was still breathing, her eyes half-closed as the rest of her body twitched.

"Her Magical Circuits were caught in the backlash when I destroyed Fragarach, otherwise losing an arm wouldn't have stopped her," Emiya continued. "Tohsaka, can you stop the bleeding ? I can only maintain one copy of Avalon in my state, and pulling out the one inside me would take too long and leave me vulnerable if she has reinforcements."

She stared at him. Was he serious ? Of course he was.

"She hurt me," she said bluntly. "She hurt _Sakura. _And you want me to help her ? After she intruded into your home, after she tried to kill you or worse, bring you back to the Clocktower ?"

"Even so," he said, sounding tired. "I don't want her to bleed out in my backyard."

He gestured to the severed limb. "Besides, I think she has paid enough for that. Don't you ?"

She considered it. Part of her wanted nothing more than to let the woman bleed out and die, to pay for her transgressions against her family with her life. But the other, greater part of her knew that it would be a foolish and immature thing to do. The Enforcer had acted as the hand of someone else, a proxy in the petty grudges of the Association. Furthermore, _killing _an Enforcer, even if it was in self-defense, would put Emiya on the Clocktower's list – even more so than defeating one already inevitably would.

If she wanted to salvage this situation, she needed information, and the most obvious source was McRemitz.

"Fine," she snarled, before kneeling next to the downed Enforcer, examining her wounds with a critical eye. Emiya was right – the Fraga's Circuits were burning. It would take a long time, and the attention of someone better versed in the healing arts than her, to restore her ability to perform Magecraft. But she should be able to stabilize her, at least.

Normally she would need to use one of her pre-charged jewels, but she had prana to spare, thanks to her link to Emiya. In fact, her Magical Circuits were painfully overcharged, though now that no more was being added the excess was being syphoned off by Sakura. Before she started, however, there was something she had to do.

A pulse of magical energy was enough to make the Enforcer's eyes open wider, and another suppressed the pain long enough for her mind to clear. As she blinked up at Rin, the Tohsaka Head spoke to the Enforcer in a clear, concise voice, while weaving a complex piece of Magecraft around the two of them.

"Swear never to take up arms against Shirou Emiya, Sakura Matou and Rin Tohsaka," she said coldly. "Swear never to return to Japan once you leave it, save with our express permission. _Swear it, _or Root help me I will finish you off myself."

Rin heard Emiya shuffle, but he did not protest. It seemed even his mercy had limits.

"I swear," the Enforcer rasped, and Rin felt the geas click into place.

"Good. Now hold still while I save your miserable life."

* * *

The sun was halfway down to the horizon when Shirou returned inside his home, having finished cleaning up the traces of the battle. He had used Magecraft Tohsaka had taught him to repair the door to the shed and fill in the holes they had left in the garden. Before that, he had placed McRemitz's severed arm in an icebox – it was possible someone at the Clocktower could reattach it, though given what he had used to cut it off, it would probably be difficult.

He found Tohsaka sitting in the main room, glaring furiously at the phone. After they had put Sakura in one room and McRemitz in another – and locked the door from the outside with both mundane and magical means – Tohsaka had said she was going to call Kirei to ask him what the hell he had told the Enforcer and why.

Shirou had no idea how to act around her now. Since their first frank discussion after the Matou's demise, the two of them had become friends – or at least he liked to think so. But though his knowledge of relationships was limited to whatever his bond to Sakura should be called, he was fairly certain that her willingness to have sex with him in order to save his life meant something more. If she had been a more typical Magus, it may have simply been cold-hearted pragmatism at work, but he knew her better than that.

"Tohsaka," he called out to her.

"Rin," she snapped at him.

Shirou blinked. "Sorry ?"

"You have had a threesomewith me and my sister, I saved you from your od going crazy and tearing you apart from the inside, and you saved me from an Enforcer. Call me Rin, for God's sake."

She was blushing, but the set of her mouth and eyes told Shirou that he better agree or face a world of pain.

"Y-yes, Rin," he surrendered meekly, before valiantly rallying : "But call me Shirou, then."

For a few moments, the two teenagers remained silent, resolutely avoiding to look at one another, before Rin forged ahead :

"I ran some quick checks on the house. The Bounded Field held, so no one outside should have noticed anything, but it was a close thing. You will need to repair it."

"Sakura is the one who is responsible for that," he admitted. "I can barely create fields that warn me if someone cross them."

"That's a weakness," she chided him. "Bounded Fields are one of the few fields of Magecraft that your over-specialized nature don't preclude you from mastering. We _will _work on that later."

"Alright. What did Kirei say ?"

Her face, which had started to relax, immediately tensed again.

"He said he was 'worried about his former ward and pupil'. He mentioned something about having run into your father before, so when I told him about what happened between you and Zouken he thought that I may have 'fallen into the trap of the Magus Killer's heir'. As a result, when that Enforcer contacted him – apparently, the two of them had met before – he told her that there was a possibility you were using Sakura as some sort of hostage to enforce my obedience."

"Of course he did," sighed Shirou. "As if something like that would work on you. If I had tried that, you would have killed me a long time ago."

"Damn straight I would have," murmured Rin.

"He was complicit in an assault on the Second Owner," Shirou went on. "Can't you ask that he be replaced as Fuyuki's priest ?"

"The Church will claim that he had good reasons for his actions – and looking at it from their point of view, he _did. _I will be able to ask for reparations, but I doubt I can get him sacked." She looked at him, and must have seen something in his expression. "You really don't like him, do you ? I am a bit surprised. I mean, he is _easy _to hate, but you never even met him."

"My father told me that he should be dead, and that I should be very cautious wherever he is concerned. He also told me that under _no circumstance _should I go anywhere near his church."

"Well, far from me to question the wisdom of the fabled Magus Killer," she murmured.

The two of them were silent for a while. Shirou sat down opposite To-_Rin_, feeling the exhaustion in his body. The damage he had endured while fighting McRemitz had been healed, but Avalon did nothing for the fatigue. He would need to start cooking dinner soon – something light for Sakura and the Enforcer, and something else for him and Rin, in enough quantities to have leftovers for when the two injured recovered and needed more substantial fare.

Before that, though, there were more urgent problems to address.

"What do we do now ?"

"You are asking _me _that ?"

"You are the Second Owner of Fuyuki, and the one with the best knowledge of the Association's ways in this house. My first instinct is to send McRemitz back as soon as possible with a message to stay out of Fuyuki _or else_, but I think that may be because I spend too much time with the Fujimura Group."

"That would only make the problem worse in the long term. No, what I am going to do is send a message to the Head of the Archibalds asking them to either apologize and pay reparations of their own, or I will drag them before the Association's tribunals."

"I would rather not have my existence and secrets paraded before the Association," said Shirou worriedly.

"It won't come to that. The Archibalds are still on the brink of ruin after what happened to their Lord during the last Grail War. They are just beginning to rebuild their reputation – attacking us and _failing _in doing so will see them destroyed by their rivals in a matter of years. They will pay whatever I – whatever we ask of them to keep it quiet."

"And the Association will allow it ? It's one of their Enforcers they used for their play."

"Oh, I don't doubt some bribes will go that way too," Rin waved off. "In fact, I think it's likely that someone has been waiting for the Archibalds to over-extend in just that manner. Which is why we need to make contact with them : neither of us want this to go public." She smiled, and Shirou suppressed a shiver at how bloodthirsty she made the innocuous expression look. "But _they _don't know that, and I am going to make them _pay _for it. Between them and the Church's own compensation for Kirei's actions, my plans to redress my family's finances are going to jump ahead of schedule by _years_."

Somehow, despite the fact that they had tried to kill him, Shirou felt almost sorry for the Archibalds in that moment. Only almost, though – they _had _hurt Sakura and Rin, after all.

* * *

AN : To those who thought Bazett would end up in Shirou's harem : do you still think that now ?

I had to watch the entire _Prisma _anime just to write the fight scene. I hope you all appreciate what I am willing to do for you all - though I have to admit, that series is a _lot _darker than I was expecting ... though still lighter than the main ones, I suppose. And I am going to have to read through the translation for the _Case Files _novels in order to prepare the next one. I have already started, and let me warn you : I am not going to go as in-depth into the mechanics of Magecraft as that series does. Not yet, at least. I mostly need to read the series for inspiration on the Clocktower and the Association.

To those who are waiting impatiently for the Servants to appear : trust me, I understand. But, to quote the words of Iskandar Khayon, warlord of the Black Legion : _"such a tale requires context"._ We are almost there, though. One more chapter, then we will have a timeskip to the first moves of the Grail War.

As usual, please tell me what you thought of this chapter and what you are expecting/would like to happen next.

Stay safe,

Zahariel out.


	11. Chapter 10

_**July **__**23**__**rd**__**, **__**2003 AD – London, Clocktower**_

"They did _what _?!"

Waver Velvet, known to the Mage Association as Lord El-Melloi II, head of the Department of Modern Magecraft and teacher of the El-Melloi class, looked at the young girl sat across him, aghast. The two of them were sat in his office, facing each other with a low table between them. It was a little past one in the afternoon, and he had just come back from eating lunch at his favorite restaurant in London to find his least favorite person waiting for him in his office. He had braced himself for a thoroughly unpleasant discussion, but what he had ended up with was _oh so much _worse.

For once, Reines El-Melloi Archisorte – the young girl with the beautiful face of an angel and the heart of a devil who, for his sins, had become Waver's sister – wasn't smiling. What had happened was more important than the Head of the Archibald family's long-ongoing teasing of Waver.

"As I _just said_, dear brother, the elders of the Archibald family sent an Enforcer to Japan in order to kill one Shirou Emiya, the adoptive son of Kiritsugu Emiya as revenge for the death of dear, mourned Kayneth and the destruction of over eighty percent of the family's Magic Crest. That Enforcer, one Bazett Fraga McRemitz, assaulted the local Second Owner during her attack on Emiya, got wounded and captured, confessed who had sent her – with false information and accusations, as it turned out – and now the Second Owner is very, _very _unhappy with us."

"Of course they are," snarled Waver, thinking furiously on what he knew of McRemitz. He had heard that name before … An Enforcer from the famously reclusive Fraga family, who had joined the Clocktower and become one of its most valuable Enforcers in an astonishingly short time. Experienced in taking down both Sealing Designates and Dead Apostles, and wielder of the Noble Phantasm Fragarach, whose secret had been passed down her family since the Age of the Gods.

Someone with skills, lineage, and experience – someone who, in a one on one fight, would have absolutely crushed Waver without even breaking a sweat, for all that the two of them had the same rank of _Fes _in the Clocktower's ranking system.

And all that had been useless against the son of the Magus Killer. Waver could already feel an ulcer coming. He powered through, forcing his mind to start to analyse the situation, drawing on his knowledge of Fuyuki.

"The Second Owner is a Tohsaka, right ?"

"Rin Tohsaka," Reines confirmed. "Daughter of Tokiomi Tohsaka, who died during the Grail War you fought in. Apparently she was visiting Emiya – who was operating on her territory with her permission, as logged in the Association's records – and the Enforcer attacked her before he put her down. Her message did not _say _that he saved her life from our assassin, but it was very strongly implied."

Waver would like to say that no one could possibly be _that _stupid. The Archibalds were just beginning to dig themselves out of the pit they had been thrown into when Kiritsugu Emiya had slaughtered the previous Lord El-Melloi, his Servant, and his fiance, crippling his Magic Crest in the process.

But they had been that stupid, hadn't they ? In their arrogance and wounded pride, they had tried to make some insignificant point. Even if they had succeeded in killing Emiya's adopted son, what did they think that would have achieved ?

_Oh, look at us,_ he thought with bitter mockery. _We are so strong and mighty, we managed to h__ire__ someone w__ith no prior connection to our family to go and__ kill the teenager adopted by the foreign mercenary who all but ended our lineage, __years after the man in question had died__. Truly our wrath is fearsome and our __influence__ boundless. _They would have been the Association's laughing stock !

Waver was aware that he wasn't being entirely fair – there had been other factors at play in the elders' decision – but at the moment, he found himself with remarkably little inclination to be _fair _to the group of old morons who may very well have doomed them all. And as long as he was angry at the elders, he didn't have to think about how he may very well be on the next Magus Killer's shit list – or, worse, Policies'. The Department tasked with managing the Clocktower's inner affairs was famously lax when it came to enforcing the law on noble families, but the Archibalds had yet to truly recover their influence. If the sharks sensed blood in the water, they would tear the Archibald family apart.

You would think that after what happened when Kayneth had died without having made _any _preparations in case of his demise, the rest of the Archibald family would have learned to plan for failure. He forced that depressing thought away and focused on the problem in front of him.

"When did all this happen ?"

"A few hours ago. The message was waiting for me when I returned from lunch. Apparently, the servant in charge of my correspondence didn't think something from Japan was important enough to interrupt my meal."

There was an eight hours time difference between England and Japan, Waver remembered, with Japan being ahead. The message had travelled quickly from the Far East, probably using Magecraft given its contents.

"What else did the message say ?"

"Reading between the lines, Rin Tohsaka doesn't want to press charges before the Clocktower, probably because her family's standing is far beneath ours. But she is aware of our … _precarious _situation in the Association, and as I said, she is furious at us. She wants us to send someone who can speak in the Archibald's name to recover the Enforcer and negotiate a settlement. I consulted my sources, and apparently she has been rebuilding her family's fortune in recent months – no doubt she intends to bleed us for as much as she can in exchange for letting us sweep this under the rug."

That was … well, it wasn't _good, _nothing about this situation was_,_ but it was the least catastrophic possibility. Their coffers would take a hit, but as long as they kept what had happened a secret, they could fill the gap slowly and no one outside the family would notice anything amiss, so long as they were careful. Not _no one _no one, of course – there would be those at the top who would know, no matter what – but no one who had a motive to kick the Archibalds while they were down. Or, rather even _more _down than they currently were, even after years of slowly rebuilding their wealth and influence.

"And Emiya ?" Waver asked. "Even if the Tohsaka Head got involved, he was the actual target, and while the Tohsaka can get us in trouble with the Association, he is a much more direct threat. What does _he _want to let that pass ?"

"The message didn't say," replied Reines, "but since the whole affair happened on Tohsaka's territory, I expect a share of the settlement will find its way into his hands as compensation. Especially since the message precised that the negotiations will take place in his home."

Waver frowned. Money would suffice, then ? Perhaps. The Magus Killer had taken all manner of contracts during his career, and though his rates hadn't been especially high among freelancers they had still been very respectable – though only ever cheap change to the noble families.

"He is probably the reason why Tohsaka is willing to settle out of court," he thought aloud. "The Magus Killer had more enemies than just the Archibald, and a trial would draw attention to his existence."

"That would make sense," agreed Reines. "Of course, it still means that …"

"I need to get to Japan," he finished, though he wanted nothing less. He sighed. "There is no one else we can trust with this, is there ? I will meet with Tohsaka and Emiya, and see what they want in exchange for their silence and McRemitz's life."

"I will go with you -" began Reines, but Waver cut her off firmly.

"No. You will not. This isn't going to be a negotiation between two noble families, Reines. You are very good at these, much better than I, but the Magus Killer cared nothing for the rules of engagement and conduct of Magi. If you die, especially at the hands of the Magus Killer's heir, the last of the Archibald's Magic Crest will be lost. The family will be doomed. I will not compound my guilt in Kayneth's demise by letting you face the same peril that ruined him."

She frowned, clearly displeased as his unusual blunt refusal. "You will be in danger too, dear brother. And your death won't wipe out the debt you owe the Archibalds."

"No, but _yours_ would make it immeasurably worse. And, much as it pains me to admit it, I would much rather deal with you than the elders. You are not going to Fuyuki, Reines – that's final."

Waver didn't notice the faintest hint of red on Reines' cheeks.

"Fine," she relented. "I will deal with the elders while you go clean up their mess. By the time you come back, I will have whipped them into obedience – you can assure the Second Owner of Fuyuki that those responsible will be punished appropriately. Whatever payment must be made will be taken out of their personal coffers. But surely you don't intend to go alone ?"

"No. I …" He sighed, and shook his head. "I will take Gray along with me."

Reines raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure ? I could lend you Trimmau."

Waver laughed bitterly. "After all the good Volumen Hydrargyrum did Kayneth, I would rather not bring her. Gray should be sufficient. I will ask her when she comes back from her errand."

"And what if she refuses to risk her life by confronting the dread heir of the Magus Killer ?" Despite the situation, there was an edge of teasing in Reines' voice. She knew very well that such a refusal was, to say it lightly, extremely unlikely.

"Then I will swallow my pride and beg you to lend me Trimmau after all," deadpanned Waver, making it obvious what he also thought of such a possibility. "Can you get a plane ready ? I would rather not have to deal with customs, especially if I have Gray with me."

"For a variety of reasons," said Reines, thinking on her brother's mysterious apprentice. "Very well. I will have a plane ready by the evening, but you will need to make your own arrangements once it lands you in Japan."

He waved a hand dismissively. "I managed to reach Fuyuki when I was nineteen, Reines. Doing so now isn't the part of this journey that worries me."

* * *

The Lord of the Clocktower and his apprentice finally arrived at their destination in the middle of the afternoon, having gone to Japan by plane before renting a car for the final leg of the journey. Waver had used the flight to read the file compiled by the elders' agents on the situation in Fuyuki, as well as brief Gray on his own history with the city. It hadn't been a pleasant conversation, forcing him to dig out memories he had spent years trying to avoid, but it had been a necessary one. Thinking of the _past _threats to his life had also helped him not think about the current ones.

And now, here they were. If not for the Bounded Field around it, Waver would have checked they were at the correct address, for the house did not resemble what he would have expected from the Emiya residence.

Where he had thought to find a bunker, or at the very least a mansion warded in Bounded Fields and traps, there was instead a house in the traditional Japanese style. And the Bounded Field around it, while competently made, was nothing like the intricate death traps that protected the domains of the Association's nobles. He suspected he could break or subvert it, given half an hour to study it.

It explained why McRemitz had gone in. From the outside, the Emiya household was the picture of a third-rate Magus' home, living a quiet life in an irrelevant backwater. Not accomplishing much, but avoiding the power games of the Association. The same kind of life Waver's parents had, and the one he had turned away from in his hunger for knowledge and recognition.

Fool that he had been …

"Remain on guard, but don't provoke them," Waver told Gray as the two of them walked down the street from where he had parked their rented car. When she didn't reply, he turned toward her. "Gray ?"

What he could see of the young girl's face under her hood was even paler than usual, which was a feat in itself considering the summer heat. She was staring at the residence with her blue eyes wide open.

"Gray !" he snapped, putting a hand on her shoulder and shaking her lightly. She yelped, her trance broken.

"Teacher ! I … sorry ..."

"Nevermind. I am aware of how sensitive you are. What happened ?"

"I … I don't know," she admitted in a small voice. "I think I saw something. Something big …"

And _there _was another reason to be terrified, right before entering the lion's den. As if he needed another. Gray was, as a result of her upbringing, extremely sensitive to supernatural phenomena, but her lack of education in the specifics of the Moonlit World made it difficult for her to interpret what she sensed.

"Well, this is promising," he whispered, loud enough for her to hear. "In any case, we have come this far – might as well finish it."

They crossed the street, and Waver rang the bell. Less than a minute later, the gate to the courtyard opened, revealing the teenager whose existence had dragged Waver back to Fuyuki.

According to the elders' file, Shirou Emiya was sixteen years old, with some margin of error given the circumstances of his adoption. Waver couldn't help but feel slightly envious at the teenager's size – he was a lot taller than Waver himself had been when he had come to Fuyuki, even though he had been nineteen at the time. Even now, Waver was only slightly taller than the red-haired teenager, and a lot less fit, judging by Emiya's exposed forearms.

"Hello," Shirou Emiya said, speaking in accented but understandable English. "You are the envoys from the Archibald family, correct ?"

"Yes," replied Waver. "You are Shirou Emiya, the Sixth Head of the House of Emiya ?"

"I am, though I hardly think of myself as the Head of a House." To Waver's surprise, the boy smiled slightly, before gesturing for them to come in. "We were expecting you. Come in – and please remove your shoes in the entrance."

Waver blinked. _This _was the heir of the Magus Killer, the slayer of Zouken Matou and defeater of Bazett Fraga McRemitz ? This polite, unassuming teenager ?

He glanced at Gray. Once again, she was staring with wide eyes, looking right at Shirou Emiya as he gestured for them to enter.

"Thank you, Mister Emiya," replied Waver, pushing gently on Gray's back to snap her out of whatever had caught her attention.

The Bounded Field washed over the two of them as they crossed the threshold, with no response except for a pulse of warning to whoever was linked to it. He and Gray removed their shoes in the entrance and followed their host further.

Two more teenagers were waiting for them in the living room, sat at the table and facing the doorway. Waver recognized them from the elders' file – Rin Tohsaka and Sakura Matou. The Second Owner of Fuyuki, and the apprentice of Shirou Emiya, both the last members of their respective families.

"Hello, representatives of the Archibald family," coolly declared the black-haired girl. "Though it pains me to do in such circumstances, it is nevertheless an honor to meet you, Lord El-Melloi."

"The Second," Waver added automatically, frowning in annoyance despite the situation before catching himself. "My apologies. That appellation is a sore point for me. Hello, Miss Tohsaka, Miss Matou. I take it you know who I am ?"

"Of course. You are, after all, the youngest Magus to ascend to the prestigious position of Lord of the Association in centuries. I heard about your compilation of 'Lord Kayneth's Encyclopedia of Arcane Secrets', and the exemplary work you have done in the Department of Modern Magecraft. And this is … ?"

"This is Gray, my apprentice. I brought her along for security purposes. I am sure you understand."

Gray squirmed a little as Tohsaka looked her up and down.

"Well, fine. We have our own security here, after all. Sit, please."

Waver and Gray sat at the low table, the latter fumbling a little to put her legs in the proper position – she was used to seating on _chairs_, not the floor.

Waver glanced at Emiya, who had gone into the kitchen and was coming back with a set of teacups he placed in front of everyone at the table, before serving them from a pot. The pleasant fragrance that filled the air was entirely at odds with the tension – just as the sight of Emiya serving them tea was utterly at odds with what Waver had expected. Even more so when the teenage boy was the only one not to sit, remaining standing behind the two young women. There wasn't anything threatening about his posture, but Waver had no doubt that he was ready to defend them should the need arise.

He took a sip, and his eyes widened. "This … this is really good tea. Thank you, Mr Emiya."

"You are welcome," replied Emiya with the same small smile he had shown when welcoming them in his home. It wasn't _warm_, but it was polite. It reminded Waver of some of the people he had met during his wandering years after the Grail War, when his foolishness had taken him down dark alleys and filth-caked streets. Shirou Emiya was being perfectly hospitable, but he was still ready to fight if things went wrong.

"I admit," Waver began, "that you are being a lot more … cordial than I anticipated. A lot more than the situation deserves, one could argue."

"One certainly _could_," Sakura Matou spoke out at last, her voice cold as ice as she glared at Waver without bothering to hide her contempt. "Given that your family tried to kill us not two days ago. Your _assassin _had me and Tohsaka-san on the ropes – it is only Senpai's intervention that saved us from your hired dog."

Waver winced. "I promise you, I had nothing to do with the attack. Neither I nor the next head of the Archibald had any idea of the plot against you until Miss Tohsaka contacted us."

"We have no reason to trust any word coming out of your mouth-"

"Sakura," Emiya warned the girl, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down."

Waver was familiar with "good cop, bad cop" technique. It was one of the most elementary tricks used in the Clocktower intrigues, where one member of a family would deliberately act rude and threatening before a more 'reasonable' one would pop up to appease them and offer a compromise. Reines had used_ him_ as the good cop on one or two occasions. But he was surprised _Emiya _was the one playing the part of the good cop in that situation.

In the mind of Lord El-Melloi II, gears began to turn.

"You are Sakura Matou, correct ? I read the theory the elders used to justify Mr Emiya's capture to Miss McRemitz. Looking at you, I doubt that their claim that you were captured in order to learn your family's secrets after Mr Emiya killed the rest of your family were anything more than an excuse to try to get Mr Emiya in trouble."

There were many ways in which the obvious trust and love the young girl felt for the Magus Killer's heir could be replicated through Magecraft, but all of them depended upon subtler methods than Kiritsugu Emiya had been infamous for.

"The Matou Magecraft was focused on familiars, and the aspect of 'binding others unto oneself'," he continued, pulling the information from what he had learned of Fuyuki in the War's aftermath. "During the Fourth Holy Grail War, the Matou Master made use of worm familiars to sustain his Servant, Berserker … Ah. I see."

Separate pieces, some of them gleaned years apart, came together in his mind, forming a picture vile enough to disturb even him, who had gazed upon the Workshop of the mad Caster. Waver turned his gaze toward Emiya, who looked back at him with steel in his eyes.

"You saved her, didn't you ? You didn't wipe out the Matou to steal their secrets – you destroyed them to rescue her from the inhumanity of what the Matou were doing to her. _That _was the 'disagreement' between you and Zouken Matou. But of course, nobody in the Clocktower would expect someone to care for the fate of an unrelated Magus … especially the adopted son of the Magus Killer."

He really, _really _wanted to smoke, but didn't dare to risk it. Instead, he took another sip of tea.

"Somehow," he continued as he put his cup back down, "you learned about the specifics of the Matou Magecraft, and, finding it abhorrent, you went to confront Zouken Matou in his very lair – and won. And judging by the fact that she is still alive several months later, you also found a way to undo what had already been done to her in the years since she … since she stopped being Sakura _Tohsaka _and became Sakura _Matou. _

Complete silence reigned. The two girls – the two _sisters –_ were staring at him in shock, while Emiya was tense, one hand still on Sakura's shoulder while the other twitched around his waist, as if grasping for a weapon that wasn't there.

Next to him, Gray let out a small whimper.

_Ah,_ Waver realized. _I probably shouldn't have said all that out loud. _Still, it was too late to take his words back now. He might as well push forward.

"Am I correct ?" he asked, doing his utmost to keep his facade of calm.

There was a moment of tense silence. Emiya finally broke it :

"Yes," he admitted. "That is more or less what happened, with the difference that I only killed Zouken. Shinji Matou died in the crossfire of our confrontation."

Which wouldn't matter as far as the Clocktower was concerned. Shinji Matou hadn't been the Matou heir, and there was only one reason Waver could think of for that not to be the case.

"How," the purple-haired girl asked haltingly, "how did you realize I wasn't born a Matou ?"

"A combination of factors," began Waver. "First, the fact that the Matou Master in the last War was a newcomer to Magecraft who had to rely on implanted Familiars despite the toll it took on his sanity. That told me the Matou bloodline was on its last legs. This is hardly uncommon for Magus families who have been around as long as the Matou without establishing minor branches that can be used as backup when the main line withers. Yet you are the one keyed into the Bounded Field around this house, and you were able to fight against an Enforcer, however briefly.

Secondly, Tokiomi Tohsaka was the model of a typical Magus. If he had another child suitable for the practice of Magecraft, he would want her to be able to pursue it, yet wouldn't split his legacy. In such circumstances, having his child entrusted to another family would be the optimal outcome, especially if that family were old allies of his. And apart from their regular conflicts during the Grail Wars, the Matou and the Tohsaka were close allies.

Third … well, that one was more of a feeling than anything else, but there is a … small resemblance between the two of you. It is faint, enough so to hint at the extent of the alterations that were inflicted upon you to make you suitable for the Matou Magecraft, but it is here."

Emiya still had his hand on the younger girl's shoulder, but his eyes were fixed on Waver, and his gaze had gone completely flat. The Lord caught the gold-brown eyes flashing briefly, before Emiya blinked and frowned, his attention turning to Gray, who was still sat next to Waver, her head nervously twitching as she looked at each of the others in turn.

"So," mused Tohsaka, drawing Waver's attention back to her. "This is the renowned insight of the Clocktower's youngest Lord. I had heard rumors, but to see it in action with my own eyes is something else. You are correct, Lord El-Melloi II : that is more or less exactly what happened. And of course, you understand that nothing you just deduced is to be shared with anyone outside this room ?"

Waver nodded, and the girl continued :

"Whatever agreement we decide upon will be enforced by the use of geas, with the wording decided between us to cover every possible situation. I have prepared a first draft for each of the items of the accord, but I will welcome your suggestions for modifications so long as you don't try to cheat us."

"I would expect nothing less," replied Waver. "The Archibalds need this entire sordid affair to be concealed – if you didn't offer to use geas to enforce the terms, I would have had to insist upon it."

"Good," said Tohsaka, pushing a first sheet of paper across the table and to Waver. "First, financial compensation. You, Lord El-Melloi II, will pay us the sum of twenty million sterling pounds. While I don't expect that money to come from your personal finances, I expect it to be both untraceable and of … let us say, 'unproblematic' origins."

Waver hid a wince. That was a lot of money … but then, it wouldn't be _him _paying it. Twenty million pounds wasn't exactly cheap change to the noble families of the Clocktower, but it was well within their margins of operation, even for the impoverished Archibald.

He could try to haggle the price down, he knew. But the truth was that he didn't really want to. Let the elders pay the price of their stupidity in full. Besides, this was only the first item of the compensation – ceding ground here, on something of no real importance (to him at least), would give him kudos to cash in later. The elders wouldn't like it, but they could go fuck themselves.

"I agree with that point, with the details of the transfer to be discussed later. What else ?"

"When I finish my secondary education in Japan, you will sponsor my entry into the Clocktower if I so desire."

He raised an eyebrow. Of all the things he had imagined being asked for today, this had not been one of them.

"You are aware that even if I sponsor your entry, you will still need to prove yourself ? My reputation in the Clocktower isn't nearly great enough to ensure you will have an easy time there."

"I fully intend to earn the respect of the Association the hard way, Lord El-Melloi II," said Tohsaka with a polite smile. "I just need your assistance to get inside despite the prejudice against Easterners that is prevalent in London."

"… Fine. When you are ready, I will personally evaluate your skills, and if I judge you to be to an appropriate level, I will sponsor your entry. Will that suffice ?"

"So long as you judge me fairly, yes. I have heard of your reputation as a teacher – if you don't believe I am ready to study at the Clocktower, I will defer to your judgment."

"I am nowhere near as talented a teacher as people make me out to be," he grumbled, before looking at the other two teenagers on the other side of the table. "I just have the misfortune of teaching those far more talented than I. And what about the two of you ? I must warn you, while letting Miss Matou into the Clocktower would be feasible, having someone with the Emiya name attend would be … extremely risky. You would need to use a fake name, and that would draw attention in itself."

"That won't be an issue," assured Emiya. "Neither of us have any intention of _ever _stepping foot in the Clocktower if we can help it at all, Lord El-Melloi II. We are _not _magi."

"Spellcasters, then. That's the name for practitioners who don't pursue the Root or the development of their Mysteries, seeking instead to use their Magecraft for more mundane ends," Waver explained when he saw the incomprehension on their faces. "I can't say I don't understand your lack of interest in going to the Clocktower. Well, I agree to that second item, with the provisions previously discussed. What else, Miss Tohsaka ?"

"The last two items were the compensation we expect for your attack. But we also want guarantees that the Archibald family will not try to harm us again, whether to avenge this latest failure or because of their stupid grudge over the results of the last Grail War."

"The Servant of our host's father killed my predecessor, his Servant, and his fiancee, all in a single evening," noted Waver. "And that was _after _crippling my predecessor's Magical Circuits and Crest. While I agree that their reaction was … overblown … you have to admit that there is _some _ground for their grudge, even if reporting it onto Mr Emiya here after his father's death was foolish."

"I do understand," admitted Tohsaka with a shrug, before her expression sharpened, and Waver caught a glimpse of the anger that burned beneath her mask. "I just _don't care. _Your family sent a killer after me and mine. That will _not _happen again. As the head of the Archibald family, you will swear a geas never to strike at us unless it is in self-defence, and to do all in your power to ensure that the rest of the Archibald abide by the same rule. In addition, you will not come to Japan before warning us in advance of the date and motive of your arrival. The same will apply for any other member of the Archibald family or their agents, no matter how many layers exist between them and the operative in question. This," she pushed another stack of paper toward him, this one much thicker than the previous ones, "details the exact punishments expected in the case this is violated without your previous knowledge."

She didn't say out loud that, if he let something like that happen knowingly, the geas would kill him.

"I will need to read this in detail," said Waver, "but in principle I am not opposed to this. But what of Miss McRemitz ?"

"She already swore a geas never to harm us or to return to Japan without our permission. She will need to swear an additional geas preventing her from ever revealing what she saw of our Magecraft," said Tohsaka, pushing a final sheet of paper toward him. "If she refuses, she will not leave Fuyuki alive."

The secrecy oaths were quite comprehensive, Waver saw as he read the scroll. The Enforcer wouldn't be able to even _think _about her battle against Emiya and his allies, with a handful of carefully crafted exceptions. Given that, while rare, mind-reading wasn't unheard of in the Clocktower, the precaution made sense. Merely stopping her from _talking _about it would have been the height of foolishness – the oaths were framed in much broader terms.

They spent some time after that working on the details of the various contracts. Nothing important was changed, just some minor phrasing as Waver tried to make sure there were no loopholes in one direction or another that the elders could try to make use of. Finally, after nearly an hour – during which Sakura Matou had withdrawn and Emiya had brought more tea, along with some biscuits that Gray had tentatively gnawed on while they worked – they were done.

"Before I sign these," said Waver as he stretched, "I would like to speak with Miss McRemitz."

"As long as you agree to swear the same oaths of secrecy she will need to, that is fine with us," replied Tohsaka, seeming unfazed by the mental exercise they had just gone through.

Left unsaid was that, if he refused to swear these oaths after exchanging information with the wounded Enforcer, the same lethal penalty would be applied to him. At least they were polite about it, Waver thought grimly.

"Shirou, bring them to McRemitz's room, please."

Waver and Gray stood, with the latter needing a moment for circulation to her legs to resume after sitting in an unfamiliar position for so long, and followed Emiya through the residence.

"Rin was too prideful to ask you," said Emiya without turning, "but I am not. You are Waver Velvet – the Master of Rider in the last Holy Grail War. Do you know who killed her father ?"

Waver blinked. He wasn't surprised Emiya knew of his participation in the Grail War – his father would have shared his experience with him, just in case. But he hadn't anticipated the question. Surely if anyone would know that, it would be the son of the one Master who had made it all the way to the end ?

"Her father … Tokiomi Tohsaka, the Master of Archer … All I know is that my Servant and I faced off against Gilgamesh on the last day of the War." Waver smiled bitterly. "We lost, and Rider was defeated by the King of Heroes, who spared my life on a whim. I wasn't involved with the War after that, though I did witness its ending from a distance. It wasn't exactly hard to spot, after all."

"No," sighed Emiya. "It was not."

"… You were there, weren't you ? You would have been five or six years old at the time."

He didn't phrase his words as a question, letting the teenager decide whether to answer or not.

"Yes, I was there. I survived the fire at the end of the War. My father found me in the devastation. That is the only reason he adopted me."

"Really ? Given that you fought off one of the Clocktower's best Enforcers, I would expect there to be another reason for the Magus Killer to take you under his wing. From what I see, you may be even more dangerous than he was."

Emiya laughed. "I am more _powerful _than my father, but I am still nowhere near as _dangerous _as he was."

"… I find that hard to believe, and I am sure Miss McRemitz would share that opinion."

"Yet that is the truth. For one thing, I am worse than useless with guns. For another, I have not lost nearly as much as he had by the time of the Grail War. I am not willing to go as far to accomplish my goals as he was, and I pray that I will never be. My father … did not live a happy life for most of his years, Lord El-Melloi II."

Somehow, Waver had no problem believing that.

"I know this is a personal question," asked Emiya, "but why did you join the Grail War ? What were you wishing for ?"

Waver laughed softly, the sound full of bitterness and self-deprecation.

"I wanted for my talent to be recognized, even though I was only a third-generation Magus. The stupidity of a child who had no idea what he was getting into."

"I see," said Emiya, nodding quietly. "One final question : your apprentice. Who did this to her ?"

Waver froze, and at his side Gray did the same. So far, his apprentice had followed their exchange with rapt attention – Waver knew that she was very curious about his past, probably because he was so unwilling to discuss it in the first place. But this …

His mind flashed back to the glint of golden light in Emiya's eyes earlier. _Mystic Eyes, _he thought, but how much did the teenager know ? While the effects of Gray's alterations were obvious, their roots were deep and subtle. And how much of what Emiya knew came from his eyes, as opposed from knowledge he might have inherited from Kiritsugu Emiya, Master of King Arthur in the Fourth Grail War ?

No. It didn't matter how he knew, at least not yet. There was only one acceptable response.

"Gray's face, and the rest of her, were already like this when I met her for the first time," Waver replied, aware that his tone had turned hard for the first time since he had entered the Emiya residence. "And, with all due respect, the details are none of your damn business."

Emiya turned then, looking at him and then at Gray. Whatever he saw – his eyes didn't flash again – it made him smile softly.

"I see," he repeated. "It is good that you care about your student that much, Lord El-Melloi II." He nodded to himself. "As an apology for my rudeness, I will ask Rin that we return McRemitz's arm to you without further payment."

Under her hood, Gray blushed, and Waver had to force himself not to follow suit. That … that had been rather out-of-character of him, he had to admit.

Then Emiya's last words registered.

"Her _arm _?" Waver blurted out.

"Yes, her arm. Our duel was not without injuries on both sides. We made sure to preserve it : maybe you will find someone in the Clocktower who can reattach it. For now, Miss McRemitz is in this room," said Emiya, gesturing to the door they had stopped in front of. "I will wait outside while you talk to her – but be aware, I will hear everything you say."

"Understood," replied Waver, shaking himself, before he and Gray entered.

For a prisoner taken while attacking a trio of Magecraft users in their territory, Bazett Fraga McRemitz was being held in far better conditions than she had any right to expect. Her room was small but not claustrophobically so, with a Western-style bed, a desk and a wardrobe. The window was closed, the curtains drawn, and Waver could sense a ward covering it and the door. An electric light illuminated the room, revealing the Enforcer laying on the bed, her head turning to look at them as they entered.

Waver was taken aback by how young she looked. Her file had said she was twenty-two, only six years younger than him, but she didn't look that much older than some of his students. She was pale, her face lined with tension that only slightly relaxed when she saw their faces and realized they weren't her captors.

There was a glass and a set of aspirin pills on the small table next to her bed, but she hadn't touched the pills – though the glass was empty, thirst having apparently overcome the Enforcer's reticence some time ago.

"Miss McRemitz," he greeted her. "I am Waver Velvet, current Lord of the Archibald family."

"I know," she said in a hoarse voice. "The old bastards who hired me made sure I knew who was _not _supposed to know about this disaster until it was over."

Waver's eyebrow twitched. So. He had confirmation that the elders hadn't just ignored him : they had actively hid their idiotic scheme from him.

"This is my apprentice, Gray. I have come here to negotiate for the silence of Emiya and his allies, as well as your release into my care. A tentative agreement has been reached, but I wanted to check on how you were doing before committing to anything. What's your condition ?"

"Apart from the obvious ?" Bazett looked at her empty sleeve – she was wearing a simple dress that was a bit small for her, but not uncomfortably so. "My Magical Circuits were damaged by the backlash of energies when Emiya beat me. I have nerve and muscle damage throughout my entire body as a result, and my head hasn't stopped hurting since I woke up. Then they asked me the details of who had hired me, what they had told me … the whole lot. That Tohsaka girl didn't threaten me again, but she didn't need to."

"I see," said Waver. He moved to refill the glass from the nearby carafe, handing it over to the Enforcer, who took it gratefully and drank it down. "Can you tell us how it happened ? All we were told was that after you defeated Misses Tohsaka and Matou, Mister Emiya joined the fray and vanquished you, severing your arm in the process."

She frowned. "Is it safe for me to tell you about it ?"

"I have already agreed to swear the same secrecy oaths you will need to submit to, so you might as well."

"Fine. When I arrived into the town, Emiya wasn't there – my contact, the local priest, told me that he was gone on a school trip of some kind. After checking the area, I set up watch over the house. He came back earlier than anticipated, and seemed to be ill. A moment later, there was a spike of prana being used, and I took that as my clue.

"The girls were tougher than I thought they would be – the Matou girl has some kind of connection to Emiya, and her spells could have killed me if I hadn't been carefully. But I still put them down without needing to hurt them too much. It was then that ..."

Her voice trailed off as she stared at the door.

"It was then that Emiya showed up ?" prompted Waver. McRemitz shook herself and continued.

"Yes, and whatever affliction he had was gone by that point."

She described what she had seen : the black lines running on Emiya's skin, the blazing eyes, the wings that seemed to be made of two-dimensional shadows and had made him immune to her punches. She spoke of the great sword he had wielded in one hand, of the immense strength he had displayed. She told Waver of how, as the battle went on, the Tohsaka girl had seemed to suffer more and more – until Emiya, apparently to avoid hurting her further, had unleashed his greatest attack at her.

"Unleashing one's mightiest blow against a Fraga … that should have been the end of it," noted Waver.

"It should have been," nodded McRemitz. "I was certain I had him. I deployed one of my Fragarach and caught his blow directly. I _felt _the Mystery react and strike back, Lord. But … It didn't work. He just … _cut _through it."

Waver choked. "He _what _?!"

"He cut through Fragarach," she all but hissed. "He tore apart a Mystery from the Age of the Gods, and went right on to cut off my arm along with it."

Waver breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. Next to him, Gray was grasping within her sleeve – not to deploy the weapon that hid there, but to reassure herself that it was still there, and hadn't been cut apart like Fragarach had been. The Sword of the Gorging God had been one of the subjects they had discussed on their way to Fuyuki, as Waver exposed just what Emiya's defeat of the Enforcer implied about his strength.

"That … that is an impressive feat," said Waver once he had recovered his calm. "And it makes your survival against a Spellcaster capable of it all the more impressive, Miss McRemitz."

"He is not a mere Spellcaster. I don't think he is even _human._"

"Yes, I can understand why you would think so. Yet the local priest, a renowned Exorcist if I am not mistaken, has made no move against him. He only told you that he feared Emiya was manipulating the Tohsaka Head and the Matou Heir. And while his belief was mistaken, it's understandable he would think as he did : our hosts are hardly of the same mindset as most Magi."

"… You think that, because Kirei didn't try to kill Emiya himself, it means he isn't a demon ?"

McRemitz's tone was sceptical, as she had reason to be. _She _was the one who had faced Emiya in the fullness of his wrath and power, after all.

"I believe that without further evidence, all we _know _is that Emiya is more than he appears," said Waver carefully, acutely aware of the teenager's presence on the other side of the door. "But he did not kill you, and he and his allies are willing to make peace with the Archibald family – and so it shall be. Rest for now. I will go back to our hosts and tell them that I agree to the geas agreement, then I will bring you with me out of this place and back to London."

McRemitz blinked.

"Why ? I am useless now. With only one arm, I am …"

"Miss McRemitz," Waver politely interrupted her, "please do not underestimate the Clocktower. Losing limbs is hardly a rare occurrence, and Emiya even kept your arm preserved – and agreed to return it. As for the damage to your Magical Circuits, I have acquaintances that can help you recovering from that."

"That doesn't answer my question," the Enforcer stubbornly continued. "Why are you helping me ? I have failed. I expected you to toss me to the wolves."

"You were sent here by the Archibalds, with lacking intelligence and on false pretences. As far as _I _see it, the family owes a debt to you, Miss McRemitz."

"_You _didn't send me here," she pointed out. "I took part in keeping you in the dark, even."

"Irrelevant," Waver declared, waving his hand dismissively. "I am Lord El-Melloi II. As long as I bear that name, the actions of the Archibald family are my responsibility."

* * *

Laying on the bed, with the phantom pain of her missing arm and the very real pain of her Magical Circuits blazing through her skull, Bazett blinked as she registered the young Lord's words. He was … he was serious, she realized. For some Root-forsaken reason, he genuinely believed that her current situation was, if not his fault, then his responsibility to deal with.

In that moment, she understood why Waver Velvet's students were ferociously loyal to their teacher. Her cheeks heated up, and she looked away, mumbling thanks.

"You will need to sign another geas yourself before we leave," said the Lord of the Clocktower. "It concerns your silence on what you witnessed here. I have read it, and found no issue with it."

"I understand," said Bazett, finally looking back at the young Lord. "I will sign it, if only so I can get out of here."

"These contracts do not prohibit us from discussing it with one another," he precised. "Once you have recovered, we will speak more about Mr Emiya's abilities – in a properly secure setting, of course."

Next to Lord El-Melloi II, Gray looked at her teacher, then at the Enforcer, and something she would vehemently have denied was a pout formed on her face.

* * *

It was only when the private jet left Japan's territorial waters, with a glass of alcohol in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, that Waver allowed himself to relax. He hadn't believed that Shirou Emiya would kill them all, not truly – not after speaking with the young man. But paranoia came easily to him these days.

In the end, after some more discussion and rewording, they had all signed the appropriate geas scrolls, binding themselves to the negotiated terms. He and Gray had both sworn the additional oaths that enforced their silence about what McRemitz had disclosed of her battle with Emiya. Now, he had to make sure the first part of the payment was sent to Tohsaka before five days. Unless Reines had failed on her end, this shouldn't be an issue.

McRemitz was sleeping in another cabin. She had hardly relaxed since waking up from her confrontation with Emiya, and the stress had eaten at her. Her severed arm laid in an icebox to which Waver had added a few protective spells, next to the tube that contained her remaining Fragarach. When Waver had realized their presence, he had expected that he would need to pay another lump sum to get them, but to his surprise Emiya had simply handed them over along the arm's container. His surprise had been even greater when he had noticed that, while Emiya had handled the severed limb without obvious discomfort, he had seemed … disgusted, somehow, by the Fragarach's container.

One more sign that Emiya wasn't a typical Magus. Such individuals would have kept the Noble Phantasms, driven to pick them apart to learn what they could from their Mysteries. But then again, no typical Magus would have been able to cut through the Fragarach, as Emiya had apparently done. Who knew what insight into its nature he had already gained from the confrontation ?

Waver fully intended to keep his word to McRemitz. He would find someone in the Clocktower who could make her a prosthetic for her lost limb. Hell, if he couldn't manage to hire a specialist he could always make it a project for his students. The El-Melloi class was a gathering of oddballs and prodigies these days, even if they were a nightmare to keep in line.

Even so, there was no denying that McRemitz's reputation among the Enforcers would take a hit, even if the details were kept under wraps. They wouldn't be able to hide her mutilation, and all manners of rumors would spread, each more ridiculous than the last. Magi were not just incorrigible gossips – they were _vicious _gossips as well. Still, Waver was confident he could find a job for her until she was back on her feet.

"What did you think of him, Gray ?" He asked his apprentice, who sat opposite him in the luxurious cabin. "There wasn't time to ask you while we were there, and it will be more difficult to speak of it in secret once we are back, so we might as well discuss it now."

"I saw … something, when we first met him," began Gray hesitantly. "For just a moment, as he stood in front of us … he had wings, like Miss McRemitz described. Dark wings, that were there, but … not."

Waver took a deep breath off his cigar. One of the advantages of using a private jet was that he didn't need to worry about smoking regulations.

"Did you glean anything more about these wings ?"

His apprentice went silent. He couldn't see her face under her hood, but he knew it was set in an expression of concentration as she tried to remember the indistinct feelings her supernatural perceptions had granted her. It was not, he had understood over their association, a straightforward process, and Gray's general ignorance made it even more difficult to make use of that talent. But they had managed it before, and they would do so again.

"Ashes," she said at last. "I smelled the scent of ashes and metal. I saw an image of black sands and of a wild forest, where the trees were so high that no sunlight came down, and there were monsters in the shadows."

"Black sands are most often found when lava meets the ocean," thought Waver aloud. "And Japan has had plenty of volcanoes in the past. If the source of Emiya's strange abilities isn't a demon possessing him, then a more spiritual kind of entity could be the answer … I will need to do some research once we are back to London."

Waver had no intent to break his word and do anything that might be counted as a threat to Emiya and his two allies, of course. But, presented with the mystery that Emiya represented, it was simply the young Lord's nature to search for the puzzle's solution.

"Does Add have anything more to say ?" he asked, his mind still whirling with possible avenues of investigation.

Gray flicked her hand, and with a clicking of metal a chain slipped from her sleeve. At the end of that chain was a long cage, within which was contained a shape made up of numerous small cuboids, with an engraving of eyes and a mouth on the front.

The mouth opened, and Add, the sentient Mystic Code that had been Gray's sole companion for years before Waver had found her in that desolate village, spoke in an insolent voice :

"_He is a weird one, that's for sure. I sensed Avalon inside him, so he can't be all that bad or it would have killed him – but there is definitely something else in there, too. I could sense it, like Gray, but I have no idea what it is."_

"Avalon ? …" Waver's breath caught, and he coughed smoke as he almost choked on his cigar. The legendary scabbard of King Arthur had been lost for centuries, and was known to be an artefact from the mysterious Fae. Since Kiritsugu Emiya had summoned King Arthur in the Fourth Grail War, it made sense that he would have had Avalon at hand to act as a catalyst – and if there was one family with the obscene resources required to locate such a priceless object, then the Einzbern certainly qualified. But still …

"Are you sure, Add ? _Inside _him ?"

"_Yep,"_ nodded the Mystic Code, a gesture that made its cage sway. _"That surprised me too – didn't think that was possible. But I would know that presence anywhere."_

"… Wait," remembered Waver. "When Miss McRemitz described her confrontation, she said Emiya handed over a blue and gold scabbard to Miss Tohsaka in order to heal Miss Matou. And she told us that the girl recovered quickly after that."

"_Then not only does he have Avalon inside him, he knows how to pull it out and use it on someone else. Kehehehehe ! Now _that's _interesting, don't you think ? No one has been able to do that since Arthur !"_

For a long moment, Waver was silent, staring at nothing, wondering whether he had made a terrible mistake. Then he downed his glass of alcohol, and reached for the bottle. Alcohol wouldn't help him make sense of all this, but it would help him not care about it for a while.

* * *

Three teenagers sat together in the Emiya household. Shirou had come back after escorting Waver, his apprentice and McRemitz out and discreetly following them until their car was out of the area. Sakura had cooked dinner for the three of them, and they were ate together in a silence that was just short of awkward.

"Alright," began Rin once they had finished eating and the dishes had been tidied up. "I think that went about as well as it could have. What about you ?"

"I think the same," confirmed Shirou. "We were lucky Lord El-Melloi II was willing to be reasonable."

"Really ?" Rin raised an eyebrow. "He didn't strike me as a dangerous individual, at least not in a straight-up fight. He hid it admirably well, but I could tell he was nervous – scared, even."

"I wouldn't have been worried about him, though we shouldn't underestimate him. He certainly has proven to be observant. But the girl he brought with him ? Now that's another story."

"You 'looked' at her, didn't you ?" asked Rin. "What did you see ?"

"She carried something related to King Arthur in her sleeve. It was hidden and sealed, but even so, I could sense Avalon react to its presence. It was … powerful. More powerful than anything I can remember. If it had come to a fight, and she had managed to deploy whatever it was, we would have lost, and a huge chunk of Fuyuki would have been destroyed in the process."

"Lord El-Melloi II didn't behave like he had that sort of trump card at his disposal," said Rin.

"He wouldn't. That power wasn't meant for human hands. Something was done to her, to make her more compatible with it, but even then, using it cannot come without a price. I think he brought her as a contingency, but when I talked to him about it, it was clear that he is quite protective of her."

"Is that why you gave him the Fragarach ? We could have sold those for a fortune, you know."

"That would have drawn a lot of attention, Rin. Having them in our possession while McRemitz returns to the Clocktower wounded would make our involvement obvious. Secrecy is more important than profit. Also, I didn't want those things in my house any longer than necessary."

"Why ? Surely you aren't scared of them. You cut through right through one – and I still want to know how you did that, by the way."

"I _saw _it," he began, speaking more slowly. "Fragarach, the Sword of the Gouging God. I saw how the Mystery works, how the blood of the Fraga line interacts with the Mystery passed down from generation to generation. I saw it all, and I _broke _it."

"'What the Gods have wrought, I will sunder,'" quoted Rin under her breath. For all that he had been fighting to protect her and her sister, and despite the pressure she had been under as his prana poured through their link, she had still shivered when he had spoken the words.

Then another thought came to her.

"If you saw how it works, can you replicate it ? Your Tracing can reproduce Avalon's own capabilities; can you do the same with Fragarach now ?"

God, but if he could, he would be almost invincible. His strength when calling upon whatever was lodged deep inside his soul, combined with Avalon's healing factor and a perfect counter that he could use as long as he had prana available to reproduce it ? That sort of combination was the stuff of legends.

Shirou shook his head, his face marred by a frown.

"No, I can't. Fragarach calls on the authority of the Irish War God, Lugh. I could recreate the Mystery, and with enough trial and error, I may even adapt it so that it responds to my od despite not being of Fraga blood. But the moment it activates, Lugh would reject it as the counterfeit it is."

"The Gods are supposed to be all dead or in torpor," Rin pointed out. "Whatever Fragarach calls on is an automated system left by Lugh to his followers, and it still works despite centuries having passed. The Fraga Clan of today is no doubt very different of the one from Lugh's active days, but the Mystery still works for them. It might also work for you."

"Perhaps," Shirou admitted with a shrug. "But I don't want to take the risk. Besides, the entire concept of relying on a God's legacy … _offends _me. The mere thought of it makes me nauseous."

Rin blinked. This … this was new. She had never – no, she _had _seen him like that before. When he had described to her what had been done to Sakura, and more recently, when he had told her what he had found in the underground temple of Kumamoto City. There was nothing similar between those two and Fragarach that she could see, but then again, she did not see what Shirou did, did she ? She had not somehow given herself Mystic Eyes of Structural Grasping by recklessly experimenting with Reinforcement like the fool in front of her had.

"We have more important things to discuss than Mysteries from the Age of the Gods," said Sakura – and it probably should have shocked Rin more that her sister truly believed those words. "You haven't slept in almost two days, Senpai – and I haven't shared your bed since you left." She looked across the table at her sister, and the sly smile on her face made Rin wary. "Will you be joining us tonight, Nee-san ?"

Rin sputtered, her face turning red as a tomato in an instant. Even Shirou blushed, and turned to look at the girl at his side – Sakura had sat next to him as they ate, as she always did when there was someone else in their house.

"Are you okay, Sakura ?" he asked. "You are being a lot more … _forward_ than usual."

"Am I ?" She cocked her head. "Well, now that Nee-san has joined your harem, I thought I should make her feel welcome. She has already had sex with you, but she hasn't enjoyed sleeping in your arms, and this is a rare opportunity. After all, Fujimura-sensei will come back soon …"

Left unsaid was that, if the school teacher learned about Rin's new relationship with Shirou – and _she _was already confused enough as to what that was, regardless of what Sakura thought or called it – it would make things difficult for all of them. Taiga Fujimura knew that Shirou and Sakura were in love, of course – only someone deaf, blind and dumb wouldn't know it by that point.

Rin didn't want to see the woman's reaction to learning that Shirou had slept with another girl – and it wasn't as if they could explain why it had been necessary at the time.

"I have not joined his _harem _!" protested Rin. Sakura continued to smile, while Shirou, wisely, said nothing. "He doesn't even have one ! Two girls aren't a harem, they are a … a ..."

"A threesome ?" Sakura pointed out 'helpfully'.

"I … I should still stay here as long as possible," Rin said quickly, resolutely ignoring her sister's comment and refusing to meet her eyes. "Lord El-Melloi II may intend to keep his word, but that doesn't mean there weren't others already sent here to finish what the Enforcer started. We should keep close to one another until we are sure the danger has passed. We also need to find out what we can do with the link between us, and study Shirou's unique capabilities in depth."

"So you _will _be staying with us tonight ?" asked Sakura, still smiling.

"I … yes. Yes I will. For security purposes only !"

"In our bed ?" the younger girl pressed on.

Rin looked at Shirou, who was still remaining silent. Somehow, this made her angry, though she had no idea what she _wanted _him to say. It was all his fault, anyway – so she might as well go with the option that would force him to share her embarrassment, whispered a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Sakura's.

"Yes !" she almost shouted. "In the same bed !"

It was only after that she realized what she had said – and by then, her pride wouldn't let her take the words back.

* * *

AN : Over 90000 words, and finally, we are done with the prelude. Wow, that chapter was hard to write, once again due to my lack of practice at writing dialogue. I cut an entire scene where Waver gave some exposition to Gray. Over 1k words, lost when I realized that it served no purpose, since the readers likely already knew everything in it.

So, no, Bazett won't join Shirou's harem. I mean, come on, people. Shirou cut her freaking arm off, after she attacked the two people he cares about the most in the entire world. You don't build any sort of relationship on that kind of foundation.

Also, one reader noted that (I am paraphrasing here) "good people don't become Enforcers, and Bazett isn't a good person". While I would argue with the generalization of the first half of that statement, I do agree with the second one.

I haven't played Fate/Hollow Ataraxia, so I am probably missing some context on Bazett's personality. But still : consider she was willing to join a death match between Magi for nothing but recognition. Kind of like Waver at the start of Fate/Zero, except with her experience as an Enforcer, she knew what kind of madness she was getting into.

Apart from that, my only glimpse of her character is from Fate/Kaleid, and ... yeah, it doesn't paint a stellar picture. She was willing to _kill an eight years old child to fulfill their mission. _That is _not _the behavior of a decent human being, and as Shirou said in the last chapter : _"Orders justify nothing"_. So she won't end up in Shirou's harem, if only for the reasons that 1) he terrifies her, and 2) their values are completely incompatible.

But ... she might end up in Waver's harem instead. He is 'Professor Charisma' for a reason, after all. Bet you didn't see that one coming, did you ?

Concerning the canonicity of the El-Melloi Case Files novels in this story : as far as I am concerned, in ABR, Gray has just become Lord El-Melloi II's apprentice recently at the time of this chapter. I haven't gotten the details of how that happened in canon, so I am keeping the exact timeline vague, but none of the novels' events have happened yet. Whether they happen or not, or in a different manner, is very much undecided at the moment.

(Many thanks to Twilight's Call, who translated the first four volumes of the novel series "Lord El-Melloi II Case Files" over on Beast's Lair.)

In the next chapter, we will do a little timeskip, and witness the summoning of Servants by three of the Fifth Grail War's Masters.

I am thinking of writing a short chapter/interlude for each summoning, starting with the Masters from the Association side of things. Obviously, Shirou, Sakura and Rin will all be Masters as well. I am curious to see if anyone can guess who the Association Masters selected by the Grail are going to be. Only one of the three is the same as in canon (the obvious one), but neither of the others are OCs.

I am going to focus on the Roboutian Heresy for now : I want to try and finish the Angel War for the 5th of August, which will be 6 years and 6 days since the publication of that story's very first chapter. No, the Roboutian Heresy isn't an elaborate ritual to sunder the veil and usher in the Age of Nightmares Unending across the Earth. I don't know why you would possibly think that.

As always, I look forward to your feedback on this chapter. This story has become more popular than any of my other works, which is both encouraging and intimidating. I will keep doing my best, and we will see how it goes.

Zahariel out.


	12. Interlude : Castle in the Snow

_**October 28th, 2004 – Einzbern Castle**_

It was always cold in the Einzbern castle. The perpetual snowstorms that shrouded the old family's territory leached all heat from the stones, and the fireplaces scattered through the enormous structure could only do so much, despite the efforts of the homunculi servants to keep them perpetually lit. There was never enough firewood to do so, forcing the homunculi to go outside to harvest more – where the wolves and the other perils of the forests would eventually kill them.

There were more efficient ways to heat the castle, of course. Even the Clocktower had stopped using fireplaces and converted to central heating to heat its buildings long ago. But the Einzbern didn't care. The servant homunculi were nothing but resources, to be made and spent as the family's Magi saw fit. The magic that had given them life was the same magic that coursed through the forest, so it all came back to them in the end.

Illya had never gotten used to the cold, despite having lived in the castle all her life. Her body was too weak, her constitution too frail – both from her inheritance and from the surgeries her Grandfather had subjected her to in order to 'maximize her potential'. She had never fallen sick from it, she wasn't allowed to, but she had always, _always_, been uncomfortable when she left her bed and the pile of blankets atop it.

But soon, that misery would end. Today was the day she would begin to fulfill her purpose. Today, she would summon a Servant. She would reach out, far beyond the limits of most modern Magecraft, and bring forth the avatar of a Heroic Spirit from the Throne of Heroes itself. And with their help, she would crush all opposition in Fuyuki once the Fifth Grail War began. She would claim the Holy Grail for the Einzbern, and restore the lost Third Magic, the Heaven's Feel, to the family, realizing the ambition they had pursued for centuries.

Of course, Illya didn't care about the Grail. She didn't care about winning glory for the Einzbern. She wouldn't live to see any of it, after all. Fulfilling her purpose meant that she would die, her body falling apart to reveal the Lesser Grail that had been implanted inside her, bound to the Magical Circuits that were the only thing about her influenced by her father's inheritance. Everything else about her was like her mother. With her long white hair, her red eyes and doll-like features, she looked just like Irisviel had as a child, before her growth had been accelerated so that she could fulfill her function in the Fourth Grail War. The same function as Illya's.

Illya would die just as her mother had died : to bring the Holy Grail in the world and fulfill the long-held wish of the Einzbern, a family to which she owed nothing but scorn and pain. She knew this. She had known this since the death of her mother and the betrayal of her father, when her Grandfather had made it clear to her that her only use to the Einzbern family was as a living sacrifice to restore their lost glory.

But her Grandfather wasn't a fool : he was perfectly aware of her feelings. Jubstacheit von Einzbern was as cunning as he was old, and the Head of the Einzbern was _ancient_. Illya had heard other members of the family theorize that Jubstacheit was hundreds of years, perhaps even more than a millennia old. No one knew how he had lived that long, but it must be something allowed by the regulations of the Clocktower : the Head's longevity was well-known, and the Barthellemoi weren't the kind to tolerate any approach to immortality that even remotely approached vampirism.

It wasn't enough for Jubstacheit that the violation of Illya by the Einzbern had created a Master with the highest possible specs, who would have command over the strongest Servant and access to the Lesser Grail's practically limitless mana reserves. All of these advantages would mean less than nothing if the Master wasn't motivated.

And so, Old Man Acht had made sure that she was motivated to fight in the Grail War.

Acht had told her years ago how her father had abandoned the Grail, rejecting the wish her mother had sacrificed herself for. But she had been a child when he had told her that, and all she had felt back then had been a numb shock, followed by denial, then grief and despair. So Acht had changed his tune. He had told her how Kiritsugu had abandoned _her_, staying in Japan and adopting another child instead. He had told her how that child had grown up to become the second coming of the dreaded Magus Killer, how that child had slaughtered the Matou family, one of the three families that had created the Greater Grail.

He had told her of the boy's lies, of his manipulation of the Tohsaka Head, another of the three founding families, in order to avoid punishment for his callous ending of a long and storied Magus lineage. He had told her how he had blackmailed the Archibald family's weakling Lord into ignoring his maiming of the Enforcer they had sent to investigate one year ago. He had told her how that child, this _Shirou Emiya_, as if he had any right to that name, had hidden from the attention of the Clocktower while discreetly investing the Einzbern. Except that he hadn't been discreet enough, and her Grandfather had caught his inquiries.

Jubstacheit hadn't told her what to think of all of this, but he hadn't needed to. The picture painted by the actions of her _brother_ was damning enough, even if his mere _existence_ hadn't already been. And so, at long last, Illyasviel von Einzbern had found a purpose she could fully embrace : revenge.

Her father was dead. He had abandoned her and Mama, and then he had had the nerve to adopt another child and be there for _him_ while she was trapped in that castle. But Kiritsugu Emiya was dead, and beyond her reach. _Shirou_ Emiya, however, wasn't.

She was going to find him. She was going to make him realize just how vast his sins against her were, until he begged her for forgiveness. And then …

And then, once she was done punishing him, she would kill him. He would pay for stealing her father from her.

* * *

Outside, the moon was full, and the skies were clear. For this night and this night only, the unnatural snowstorms had abated, to lessen the risk of their magic interfering with what was to take place. Hallow's Eve was near, the veil between the real and spiritual worlds thinned by the weight of thousands of years of belief.

Illya and her Grandfather stood in the space that had been prepared for the summoning. She had spent the last two hours tracing the summoning circle herself, having added a drop of her blood to the material prepared for her. Everything must be done perfectly, to maximize the stats of the Servant she would summon. Her Grandfather, who had stood watch in silence all that time, would tolerate nothing less.

After inspecting her work with a critical eye and nodding once – the greatest sign of her Grandfather's approval Illya had ever received – Acht walked to the altar in front of the circle, and opened the box that laid on it. Within it laid the catalyst Illya would use to summon her Servant : a relic from that Heroic Spirit, recovered at great cost and after years of searching by Einzbern agents.

It was an old piece of armor. Fragments of it were missing, visibly torn off centuries ago, but the shape of a lion-headed helmet could still be recognized. Illya was no expert, but she had received enough teaching in the various styles of armor to help her guess the identities of enemy Servants to recognize that it was something dating from the Middle Ages, that period of European history that had followed the fall of the Roman Empire and the dissolution of the Magi lodges that had called it home.

She frowned. This wasn't what she had expected.

"Grandfather ?" She dared to speak, the first words she had spoken to the man in months. "I thought I was going to summon Heracles as a Berserker-class Servant ?"

Left unsaid was that doing so would have been a flagrant abuse of the Einzbern's knowledge of the Grail System. While it was possible to skew the chances of one's Servant being of a particular Class by selecting a Heroic Spirit with a suitable legend, forcing a Servant into a Class – especially one like the Berserker Class – was another matter entirely. Only by performing the ritual here, in the heart of the Einzbern's power, could Acht force the Grail's hand in this way.

"That was the plan, Illyasviel." For once, Acht's voice lacked the underlying tone of stern disappointment that was almost always present when he talked to her. "But circumstances have forced me to adapt our approach. All of our leads on a catalyst suitable for summoning the son of Zeus failed, either because our information was wrong or because someone else had already got it first. I was considering going after one of the latter category anyway, but one of our expeditions found this instead."

"This," he continued, gesturing at the helmet, "is the helm that was worn by Arthur Pendragon, the legendary monarch of Britain and King of Knights. King Arthur wore it during much of his reign, as part of a suit of armor bestowed upon him by none other than Merlin himself. Even now, traces of the enchantments laid upon it by Merlin linger. One could not ask for a better catalyst with which to summon King Arthur : there is no other possible Servant which may be called forth from the Throne using it."

Illya took a sharp breath. This wasn't quite on the same level as Avalon, the enchanted scabbard that had been used to summon King Arthur by her father during the previous War, but it was still an incredible find.

"It was found near Byzantium of all places … or Istanbul, as I am told the city is called nowadays. As far as I was able to find out, it was brought there by one of the soldiers involved in the wars that raged in the area during the Middle Ages, carried from the fields of Camlann themselves and passing from hand to hand until its last holder perished in battle and was buried with it."

That was … it wasn't _impossible_, Illya guessed, but that certainly was a long trip for a piece of armor, however historically and thaumaturgically priceless.

"One might interpret this as a sign of the Root," mused the old man, and Illya was forced to silently agree. "A chance for our family to wipe out the shame of our previous failure, by using the very same Servant _that man_ employed when he betrayed us."

'That man'. Acht never used Kiritsugu's name, but no one ever mistook him for meaning someone else whenever he spoke the words. Shifting on her feet uncomfortably, Illya tried to change the subject :

"It won't be the same Servant, though. Right, Grandfather ?"

"Of course not. The Servants on the Throne of Heroes do not receive the memories of their time incarnated as familiars for us magi. The Grail was designed to make sure of it."

'Us' magi. As if _she_ had ever been considered a proper magi by the rest of the Einzbern. The only people in the entire castle who had ever treated her as a person rather than a tool were Sella and Leysritt, her attendants, and they had literally been created to follow her orders and take care of her.

"In that case, the wisdom of that design is manifest," Acht went on, either unaware of uncaring of Illya's thoughts. "We still do not know exactly what happened in the last Grail War, but summoning a fresh version of King Arthur that was not exposed to _that man_ can only be for the best. Especially since we won't be using our methods to force a summoning into the Berserker Class : unlike Heracles, King Arthur would lose far too much of what makes her such a powerful choice for a Servant. There will be the issue that your competitors will likely know that King Arthur was the Servant used by our family in the last Grail War, and therefore easily guess her identity this time around … But I am confident that our other measures will more compensate for that handicap."

_Her_ identity. Illya had few memories of the Saber-class Servant her father had summoned in the Fourth Grail War, but she did remember that it had been a woman – a very pretty, petite woman. Now, she understood that learning that King Arthur had been a woman would have been quite the shock to the historians of the mundane world. But then again, just learning that King Arthur had actually existed would have been a shock to those historians : the denizens of the Moonlit World had done their utmost to erase all actual evidence of the King of Knights' legacy, relegating her and her Round Table to the realm of myth and legends.

Illya didn't know why they had done that, though she had her suspicions. The secrecy of the Moonlit World was perhaps the only things all its inhabitants agreed upon, and the tales of Camelot would have strained it considerably if they had been allowed to remain more than fables.

"Now, Illyasviel," Acht's voice drew her from her thoughts, "it is time to begin."

Illya's heartbeat didn't quicken at the words. She had been trained better than that. Still, she did feel a faint sense of trepidation. This was what she had been trained, what she had been born, for. The culmination of her entire existence.

The summoning chant had been burned into her mind by the dozens of hours she had spent learning and reciting by heart, every syllable spoken with perfect precision and rhythm. She spoke it now, loud and clear, as easily and naturally as breathing.

"For the elements, silver and iron." she began. "For the foundation, stone and the Archduke of Contracts."

The circle started to glow as her prana coursed through it, and the connection to the distant Greater Grail in Fuyuki tentatively began to form.

"For the ancestor, the great master, Schweinorg."

Even if the Wizard Marshall's current condition was … complicated to say the least, he was still one of the world's few Magicians, having reached the Root through mastery of the Kaleidoscope. His insights had helped design the Greater Grail centuries ago, and by invoking his name, the Master could draw upon that lingering connection to reinforce their own link to the Heaven's Feel.

(This was all nonsense, of course, meant to help the self-hypnosis required to perform any Magecraft. Illya knew this, but she also knew how to make it work anyway.)

"Close the gates of the cardinal directions," Illya continued. The tumult of her thoughts and emotions quieted as she went deeper and deeper into herself, igniting her Magic Circuits one by one with absolute concentration.

"Come forth from the crown, and follow the forked road leading to the Kingdom.  
Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill.  
Repeat five times.  
But when each is filled, destroy it.  
Set.  
Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.  
If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me.  
I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world.  
That I shall defeat all evil in the world.  
You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power,  
Come forth from the circle of binding,  
Guardian of the Scales !"

* * *

_C__ontact acknowledged. Catalyst recognized._

_Initiating linking process to the Throne …_

_ERROR. ERROR. Access denied. Initiating self-analysis protocols …_

_**SeLf-ANAlySiS INTErrUPtEd. We KnOw. WE KnOW. WE KNOW.**_

_Initiating backup selection process …_

_Accessing recorded Spirit/**SerVaNT** Origins/**ReCord** …_

_Access granted. Searching for compatible Origin …_

_Compatible Origin/**FrAgMenT** found/**IsOlATed**._

_**FaLSe **__**DAugHter anD **__**VirGiN **__**mOthEr – hEaR ThE lAugHtEr iN tHe StArS/**__Beginning m__anifestation__ process …_

* * *

There was a flash of light, and a sense of something new : a connection, both subtle and intimate. Illya could sense her Servant's mind, linked to her by the bond between Servant and Master. It was still faint, just enough for her to know that it was there, but it would grow stronger in time.

When the light faded, a silhouette stood in the summoning circle.

Illya immediately realized that this wasn't the Saber-class Servant her father had fought with in the Fourth Grail War. She was taller, and clad in a full set of gleaming armor in the style of the helmet that still rested on the altar. In her hand, she held a weapon shaped like a white jousting lance, but that appearance, however flashy, belied its true nature. The weapon radiated power to Illya's senses, along with an acute impression of otherworldliness.

With a flicker of will, the Servant dissipated her helmet into motes of prana, revealing a face very much like the one Illya half-remembered, but older, more refined and elegant. She looked at Illya with eyes like gleaming emeralds, and her voice was strong, though not without softness.

"I have answered your call. I am your Servant, Lancer. With this spear, I shall be your strength."

"I am Illyasviel von Einzbern," Illya replied with a curtsey. She hadn't thought she would need to be polite to her Servant : had she summoned a Berserker, such niceties would have been utterly wasted. But she had been trained into acting the part of a lady, so that she would not shame the Einzbern name during the Grail War before her dissolution. "I am your Master."

"Well done, Illyasviel," praised Acht, a thin smile on his lips as he looked at the Servant with eyes that saw much more than her outer appearance. "Excellent stats all around. The summoning went off perfectly. This bodes well for the Einzbern's victory in the Grail War."

"She looks different than she did in the Fourth War," Illya pointed out. "Even her Class isn't the same."

"Yes. That is surprising, but not unexpected. The legend of King Arthur is among the greatest in Humanity's history, with dozens of variations having appeared over the centuries." If the Servant was discomforted to hear them discuss her as if she wasn't there, she gave no sign of it. Her emerald gaze was still fixed on Illya, her expression indecipherable. "With a different catalyst, it makes sense that the Grail would summon a different aspect of the King of Knights."

"Servant Lancer," said Acht, his voice now cold again, with barely a hint of awe in it. "This lance you carry. It is Rhongomyniad, the Spear at the End of the World, correct ?"

Lancer cocked an eyebrow, still looking at Illya. The girl gestured to go ahead, and the Servant reluctantly nodded.

"It is," replied Lancer aloud. "Though given that I am without a mount ... "

She raised the spear, holding it horizontally in front of her. With the same pulse of light that had accompanied her helmet's dissolution, Rhongomyniad changed forms, going from a jouster's lance to first a thinner spear, and then to what looked like a rapier of blue-grey metal, held within a white scabbard.

"... this form will probably be better suited to the battles ahead," the Servant finished. "We will speak of Rhongomyniad's forms, Master, and how to integrate them into our tactics."

"Wonderful," whispered the Einzbern Head.

Illya nodded absent-mindedly, not really listening as Jubstacheit droned on about the legend of the history and power of the weapon. Clearly the old man had brushed up on his Arthurian lore after obtaining the catalyst, something which Illya hadn't been given a chance to but would need to in the next few weeks.

Still, she didn't need that to know that the War wasn't going to be much of a competition. Illya had been fashioned into the ultimate Master, her Magic Circuits carefully tweaked so that she could draw upon the nigh-on limitless mana of the Grail itself in order to fuel her Servant. An ordinary Master would risk death in order to provide Lancer with enough prana to activate Rhongomyniad's most destructive capabilities without using a Command Seal, but Illya could theoretically do it without suffering any worse consequence than needing a full day of rest. Well, that, and the immense pain she'd go through while forcing so much prana through her body.

The actual challenge would be to take down her enemies without endangering the secrecy of Magecraft. As a rule, Noble Phantasms weren't subtle, and the Light at the World's End was among the most blatant of the lot. Knowledge of the weapon's characteristics and power output was flowing through Illya's mind as she used her connection with the Grail to slightly increase the knowledge it bestowed upon all Masters. If used correctly – or _incorrectly_, she guessed she should say – Rhongomyniad would wipe out entire districts of Fuyuki off the map.

… Not that Illya cared much about the secrecy. She wouldn't live past the Grail War, after all. But she still didn't want to be responsible for the amount of deaths and suffering that the Association's clean-up would cause if the secrecy was breached.

"Now, Illyasviel," said Acht in a commanding tone. "You know what you have to do."

The half-homonculus looked at the old man, her face a blank mask. For a moment, she entertained the fantasy of ordering her Servant to kill him. No matter how tough he was, she was confident Lancer could deal with him. The rest of the Einzbern wouldn't be much of a challenge, either. Using her Command Seals, she could force Lancer to kill them all, lay waste to the entire castle. She could take her revenge on all those who had belittled her, who had mocked and insulted and tormented her …

… except, what would that actually achieve ?

Her thoughts went cold and bitter. Even if she killed everyone in the castle, she would still die before the end of the year. She might despise that her only purpose in their eyes was to win the Grail for them, but without them, she would never make it to Japan, and to her _brother_, in time.

There was a reason Acht hadn't been worried about handing control of the thaumaturgic equivalent of a nuke to someone his entire family had mistreated for years. The old Magus knew this. He knew that, in the end, Illya had no choice but to play along with his schemes.

With a sigh, she raised her right hand toward Lancer. Crimson lines glowed all over her body as she focused on her Command Seals, which had been fused to her Magic Circuits to optimize her output.

Lancer stiffened, alarmed. She had some idea of what was about to happen : the Grail's system put the knowledge of how the Holy Grail War worked into the minds of the Servants it summoned, along with the knowledge required to function in the current era.

"Master," the Servant began, speaking quickly. "I don't think -"

"By the power of my Command Seal," Illya cut her off, "I order you, Servant Lancer : when the Grail of Fuyuki manifests at the end of the Fifth Holy Grail War, you will do everything in your power to deliver it safely to the Head of the Einzbern in this castle."

Power surged through her flesh, along with considerable pain. But she was used to far worse, and didn't even flinch as one of her three Command Seals that could actually be used to give her Servant orders (her Grandfather hadn't been able to abuse the system enough to give her more than that) faded away. Unlike another Master, this wasn't marked by the disappearance of the red markings on her skin : those were the projection of her own Magic Circuits, the result of her modifications. It was more like a … feeling, a sense that something was gone, and only two more remained. She couldn't have explained it if she had been asked to – but no one ever had, anyway.

There was no immediate change in Lancer, nothing to indicate that Illya's command had taken effect. In many ways, such an order could be considered a waste of a Command Seal, a priceless and irreplaceable resource.

"Why ?" asked Lancer, her voice cold as ice. She wasn't looking at Illya : instead, she was glaring at Acht, who showed no sign of fear at being the target of such a look from a Servant.

"After what happened in the last Grail War, we decided not to take risks this time around," he answered. "Illyasviel will give you the details later if required. All you need to know is that when you bring the Grail here, your own wish shall be granted."

The wish. What would Lancer wish for, Illya wondered ? Maybe she'd ask her. She wouldn't be there to see it, after all.

"... Fine." Lancer scowled, before looking back at Illya. "I know that I was summoned early, and that this isn't the location of the Grail War. What is our next course of action, Master ?"

"Training," replied Acht, not leaving Illya the time to respond. "We can monitor how many Servants have been summoned from here thanks to our knowledge of the Greater Grail. You are the first, but there are still several weeks before the Grail War is officially expected to start. Illyasviel, you will train with your Servant to verify that your enhancements are working as intended. Then, once you are ready and more Servants have been summoned, you will go to Fuyuki with another two homunculi."

Lancer glanced at Acht, before returning her gaze to Illya. The child-faced girl nodded, knowing that 'training' would involve yet more pain. Every attempt would hurt, and take weeks off her limited lifespan. She didn't want to do it; she didn't even think she needed to do it to win the Grail War, or at least to accomplish her own goals in it. But she would do it anyway.

What choice did she have ?

* * *

AN : So, this chapter took a while to come out, especially for one of its length. The reason for that is a mix of IRL stuff and the fact that I have been focused on the next chapter of the Roboutian Heresy for the last few weeks.

To clarify : Illya has summoned the Servant recorded in Fate Grand Order as "Lancer Altria". Not the exact same one as in that game, of course - one must make allowances for the fact this is an AU. But the physical appearance, at least, is the same.

The inspiration for having Illya summon Arthuria (Arturia ? Arthoria ? Artoria ? Altria ? I really need to choose one spelling really soon. What do you all think ?) instead of Heracles came from the fanfic "The Artist and the Faker", by Agitated Animator on ffnet. The reasons why I then stayed with this option are multiple, and some of them would be spoilers. For now, I can say that the plan of the Einzbern in canon never really made sense to me.

I mean, let's imagine that in canon, the Grail hadn't been corrupted, Gilgamesh didn't exist, and Kirei was doing his job as Overseer properly. I know, that last one is something of a stretch, but indulge me.

Here is what would have happened : Illya summons Heracles as Berserker. She goes to Fuyuki, kills Shirou and the rest of the Servants/Masters ...

... until enough Servants are dead that she transforms into the Grail itself, which we know from what happened to Irisviel would have happened before all of them were dead.

And then what ? Are her homunculus aides supposed to take the Grail and bring it back to Germany ? I think the surviving Masters would have something to say about that, and without all seven Servants' worth of prana the Grail couldn't be used anyway. Would Heracles still be there once Illya turns into the Grail ? Even if he was, did Acht think Berserker would bring the Grail back ? I can see many, many problems with that.

I may be missing something, but from what I can see, Acht's plan makes no sense unless he just wanted to spite Kiritsugu's memory and just prove to everyone that the Einzbern could win the Grail War after the humiliations of the Third and Fourth iterations. And even then, the latter is questionable. Maybe Acht's programming just went haywire ? (By the way, whether Acht is the same creature in this fic as he is in canon is still very much up for grabs).

And so, when writing this chapter, I had two objectives : give the Einzbern a plan for the Fifth Holy Grail War that actually made sense to me, and give justice to just how terrible a life Illya has lived thus far. I hope that I succeeded. This story has, against all my expectations, become the most popular of all my works, at least according to ffnet's numbers. I won't lie : given the relative effort I put into each story, I am just the tiniest bit miffed about that, and more than a little afraid of frakking it up. But hey, I like that story too, so I will just roll with it.

In this year especially, there is something really satisfying about rising one's narrative blade in challenge to the uncaring darkness of Warhammer 40000 and the Nasuverse.

Also, saying this risks spoiling the Masters of the next two interludes, but given the choice between spoiling those or spoiling Nasu's own works, I will choose the former.

So : starting from the next chapter, this story will include spoilers for Fate/Prisma Kaleid and Fate Grand Order. There. You have been warned.

In other news : after asking my readers on Spacebattles, I have decided that the next chapter of the Roboutian Heresy (The Angel War, last part of the Terran Crucible arc) will be published in several smaller parts instead of a single, book-length update. As a result, that fic should be updated soon-ish.

Thanks you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I will see you next time.

Zahariel out.

PS : While putting the finishing touches to this chapter, I found out that in canon, Illya summoned Heracles after Acht had thrown her outside in the snow, and Heracles saved her from the wolves. I ... just ... why ? What would have happened to his plans if she had died ?! ... Nevermind. I suppose in this AU, Acht is both more cunning and less needlessly cruel.


	13. Interlude : Castle of Dolls

_**November **__**7**__**th**__**, 2004 – Ainsworth Castle**_

Laughter wasn't a common occurrence in the ancestral home of the Ainsworth family of Magi. The Ainsworth men were prone to melancholy and outright depression, the women were condemned to see their fathers and brothers succumb to their bloodline's doom, and the enemies of the family were turned into living, enslaved dolls that served their victors as menial servants. Sometimes, these construct of wood and Magecraft even retained just enough of their former selves to silently scream at their condition.

All things being considered, Ainsworth Castle was a dismal place to live in, where an ever-diminishing number of Magi practiced their line's famed Magecraft of spatial manipulation. Its actual location shifted from time to time, as the Head of the family used the powerful spells embedded in the very foundations of the castle to displace it from one of the family's sprawling land properties to another. No one but the Ainsworth themselves knew where their demesne was at any given time, a precaution that had served them well over the centuries. This regular relocation also meant that the children of the Ainsworth found it difficult to form lasting relationships with the locals, which only aggravated the mental pressure they lived under.

Yet on this night, the sound of laughter echoed through the castle's corridors, joyous and mad. In his room, Julian Ainsworth, heir of the Ainsworth family, shivered as he heard it, and hugged the letter he had received from his childhood friend Beatrice Flowerchild, who was asking him when they would next meet. His elder sister Angelica similarly hid in her chamber, wondering what new horror the unprecedented sound announced.

And in a room full of tools for performing Magecraft was the source of the laughter, which stopped suddenly with a hacking, gasping sound. The Head of the Ainsworth family, Zachary Ainsworth, father of Angelica and Julian, stood with his head thrown back and his hands on his face, his entire body trembling. On his left hand was a set of three crimson marks – the Command Seals that represented his selection by the Grail as a Master to fight in the Heaven's Feel ritual in distant Japan.

On his left hand was another such set, the three red marks a perfect mirror of the ones on his right.

By the rules of the Holy Grail War as they were commonly understood, such a thing should have been impossible. The three families who had built the system were rightly proud of how tightly they had constructed it, with hundreds of fail-safes and rules designed to prevent loopholes (at least, those they didn't make use of themselves).

_But it seems even these hallowed families did not think their precious system would have to deal with one such as us_, crooned a voice inside Zachary's head.

The voice was that of Darius Ainsworth, founder of the Ainsworth legacy and pioneer in space-manipulation Magecraft. He was also, in Zachary's informed opinion, a complete and utter bastard; a grotesque parasite that clung to life long past the point of death by stealing the very existences of his descendants.

For Zachary Ainsworth was not just Zachary Ainsworth. Like his father before him, and his father before him, and so on for almost a thousand years, the current Ainsworth Head was nothing but a vessel for Darius Ainsworth, the First Head of the Ainsworth family. Through his Magecraft, Darius had bound himself to his lineage, arranging things so that his soul would take refuge in the bodies of his descendants upon his death. There, it would take seed, and slowly, through the spell of Conceptual Replacement, take over the body, mind and soul of the host. It always started slowly, with Darius barely able to manifest his own form over that of his host for a few moments, with months passing between each incarnation. But inevitably, his influence would grow, until the weight of his existence overwhelmed his descendant's.

And eventually, only Darius remained, resuming his position as Head of the Ainsworth. The body of his host would disappear, replaced by that of Darius at his prime, ready to lead the Ainsworth for another few decades before old age brought him low.

All males of his bloodline lived with that sword of Damocles hanging above them. They were nothing but vessels, bred to ensure the resurrection of their bloodline's founder, all so that he may eventually accomplish the ambition of all Magi and reach the Root.

_And now, _whispered Darius' voice, following Zachary's thoughts, _that goal is within my reach at last. With the Grail, I may finally reach the Root. And once that is done, I will no longer need your family to serve as my vessels. Your son will be free of your 'curse', Zachary._

"And if we lose and die," replied Zachary bitterly, "you will steal his life next."

_Then you better do your best to help me win, don't you ?_

Zachary had no answer to that. The truth was, he truly loved both of his children, even if both the attitude expected of a Magus and the parasite inside him had kept him from showing it properly. The prospect of freeing Julian of the family's curse was too enticing for him to resist … even if it came at the cost of helping a monster like Darius reach the Root.

And even if it meant participating in something as bloody and violent as the Holy Grail War always seemed to end up as.

"What," he asked out loud with a heavy heart, "do you need me to do ?"

* * *

The answer, it turned out, was 'quite a lot'.

Under Darius' guidance, Zachary spent the next several hours preparing for the summoning of the Servants. He cleared a space in his Workshop, and traced two Formalcraft circles, following the instructions found in a grimoire Darius had led him to. The grimoire had been taken from the possessions of a dead enemy of the Ainsworth centuries ago, who had obtained it after its original owner had taken part in the Second Grail War and died alongside every other Master and Servant. It had been perfectly preserved inside one of Darius' many caches throughout the Ainsworth castle, and though the instructions had been written in Latin, that was hardly an obstacle for Zachary.

Darius could have taken over Zachary's existence and done it himself, of course. Zachary was bitterly aware of just how far along his own Conceptual Replacement had come since he had inherited his family's curse upon his father's death. But the ancient Magus had no patience for that kind of menial work, not when he could order his descendant to do it in his stead. That sort of things was why he made sure all of his future hosts were trained in the Ainsworth Magecraft, rather than just develop their Magical Circuits to hasten the Conceptual Replacement's completion.

"How," asked Zachary as he worked, "could the Grail have missed the fact that we share a body ?"

_I can only speculate,_ replied Darius' voice in a thoughtful tone. _While it is rare, possession of one kind or another is hardly unique. But my own little trick makes unique use of our family's Magecraft. Perhaps that uniqueness was enough to constitute a loophole __through the safeguards of the founding families__. Of course, for all I know, the Grail itself may be tired of the repeated failures of the previous Wars, and aims to give one of the Master an overwhelming advantage by taking advantage of our nature, just so that it can finally fulfill the purpose for which it was created._

Zachary paused. "The Grail itself ? Do you mean that the system behind the War has some sort of … sentience ?"

… _Perhaps. I remember when the Heaven's Feel was first implemented and the three families behind it announced it to the rest of the Association, searching for others to participate in their ritual. Though I wasn't especially interested in it, I heard that the Einzbern had to sacrifice one of their greatest homunculi to serve as the ritual's core. The fact that a 'false human' was such a pillar of the whole process was part of the reason why the Church tried to dismantle the ritual and purge everyone involved when they first learned of it._

Zachary blinked. "I thought the Church served as the neutral Overseer for the War ?" It was fairly common knowledge – collaborations between the Church and Association were extremely rare.

_They do now, yes. I do not know what the three founding families offered them to accept this, but back when it all started, the Church made enough of a fuss about the 'defilement of God's chalice' that I still remember it today. Whatever they were given to not only tolerate but even take part in the ritual must have been substantial._

It would have needed to be, thought Zachary. Relations between the Church and the Magi had always been tense at best, with the former considering the latter godless heretics and the latter considering the former fools and hypocrites who clung to meaningless traditions. The two organizations (though the Church was much more of an actual "organization" than the Association) only cooperated on the very basics of maintaining the secrecy of the Moonlit World, and, once in a crimson moon, on putting down major threats to the World itself.

_We will need to be cautious when dealing with the War's Overseer. And of course, if the other Masters learn of our advantage, they will make sure to defeat us first. Discretion will be of paramount importance …_

Zachary continued to work in silence, feeling Darius' presence in the back of his mind, considering all that he knew of the Holy Grail War and planning his strategy – what research needed to be done before they left, what weapons and Mystic Codes should be brought out of the vaults, what Magecraft were the founding families renowned for … For a time, Zachary even heard his ancestor consider buying some land in Fuyuki to teleport the Ainsworth Castle there. Fortunately, Darius dismissed the idea as impractical before Zachary had to start planning to send his children away before Darius could bring them in the middle of a conflict between Heroic Spirits.

Nearly two hours after he had started, Zachary stood up, checked his work carefully, and nodded to himself.

"I am done with the summoning circles. What now ?"

_I have a plan in mind. Our Magecraft can be of great use in battle, and with the proper Servant to take advantage of it, it might just win us the War outright. _Darius was talking to himself – he didn't care whether Zachary understood his tactics or not, so long as he did what he was told. _To that end, I want us to summon a Servant belonging to one of the Knight Classes, and one belonging to the Cavalry Classes, _continued Darius, referring to the categories of Servant Classes used by the three founding families._ That should give us a good balance between tactical flexibility and raw firepower._

According to the grimoire, the Knight Classes were comprised of Saber, Archer and Lancer, while the Cavalry Classes were made up of Caster, Rider, and Assassin. The Berserker Class stood apart, and Zachary was quietly relieved Darius didn't intend to summon a Servant of that particular Class. Servants were said to be influenced by their Master : the notion of a Berserker controlled by a Master in Zachary's … unique situation was not a comforting one.

The grimoire also contained the speculations of the Master who had written it regarding minute alterations to the summoning circle to skew the odds of the summoning toward a particular Class. As Zachary worked, Darius had guided him to use some of these suggestions, along with a few of his own. Despite being a monster, Darius' bodiless spirit remained the greatest Magus the Ainsworth family had ever birthed, one who had pursued the Root relentlessly for hundreds of years, and his improvised modifications just might do what he wanted them to.

_I have decided that we will bring a few dolls along with us as backup. I have a few in mind that might be useful._

Crafted by capturing the essence of former enemies at the moment of death and binding it to a humanoid construct, the dolls of the Ainsworth retained some of their previous abilities, though not all. It was for the best that they didn't : if they had, then the Association would have destroyed the Ainsworth centuries ago in self-defence, to keep them from amassing an army of enslaved Magi and using it to steal their secrets. As it was, those who knew of their existence regarded them with something between disgust and admiration, recognizing the incredible application of Spatial Displacement they represented.

There were other limitations, of course. The dolls' usefulness for infiltration was restrained by the fact they could not eat, drink, or bleed, and tended to go through psychotic breakdowns if made to act autonomously for long enough. In addition, something was always lost in the transference process, whether it be memories, emotions, or basic abilities. Yet even so, the sheer number of such dolls the Ainsworth family had created over the thousand years since Darius had revolutionized their Magecraft meant that they had more than a few battle-worthy ones in reserve.

"Aren't there rules against that ?" asked Zachary. His question was not born out of any concern he felt for the dolls – for all that Zachary was a better man than Darius, he was a Magus still. "I thought the Masters were supposed to fight just with their Servants." He frowned as another issue came to his mind. "And would they even be of use ? We are talking about a war between incarnated spirits from the Throne of Heroes, not mere battle familiars."

_Not against a Servant, no, but against the Masters, they might prove useful. Better to have them and not need them, than need them and not have them, wouldn't you agree ? And if the Overseer protests, we will point out that the Einzbern always bring homunculi of their own – there is little difference between those and our dolls on a practical level._

"… If you think it will work. Any suggestion as to what catalyst we should use ? Or should that be catalysts ?"

_No, we will just use one. And I think I have just the one we need … if you can get it for me._

Zachary didn't like the tone of that one bit.

* * *

It took three more hours for Zachary to get his hands on Darius' intended catalyst. Even with the voice of his House's founder whispering guidance in his head, navigating the gauntlet of traps, locks and wards that led to one of the vaults accessible only to the Ainsworth Head had been a trial. Darius alone knew the location, contents, and defenses of these vaults, which were scattered across the castle and in a handful of other locations. It was inevitable, Zachary supposed, that an immortal would accumulate trinkets and items of power they would need to store for later use – and it was one such artefact he had taken from that particular vault, before closing it down again. Apparently, that particular vault did not contain any of the items Darius' tactics would require.

Zachary didn't look forward to accessing the other vaults. For now, the item he had recovered from this one didn't look like much at first glance. It was a small piece of rusted metal with edges smoothed over by time. Whatever it had been a part of once was impossible to identify, though it was clear even to a casual look that it was _ancient_, in the true sense of the term. Holding it in his palm, Zachary could feel the age of the thing, his perceptions honed by years of practicing Magecraft picking up the aura emanating from it. There wasn't exactly much to sense, but the sense of _deepness _to it was … intense.

"What is it ?"

_This is a fragment of the shield the goddess Athena gifted Perseus,_ gloated Darius, _and which he used to slay the monster Gorgon on the Shapeless Isle, back during the Age of the Gods._

For once Zachary couldn't blame Darius for the pride in his voice, for such a relic was beyond priceless. Artefacts from the Age of the Gods were coveted above all others by Magi all over the world. So much had been lost about that near-mythical era that all that was left were the mythological stories that had spread beyond the Moonlit World. Entire techniques had been developed to extract even the tiniest fragment of lore from the most mundane of relics from that period. For something that had been touched by the power of an old god … What secrets might be extracted from it ?

_Perseus used a sword to kill the Medusa,_ said Darius, uncaring of the potential of the relic he planned to use to further his own ambitions, even if it was going to be destroyed in the process._ And according to his legend, he then__ rode the Pegasus __that__ was born of her blood. __I am hoping__ we can summon two versions of the same Heroic Spirit, manifested in the Saber and Rider Classes._

"Two versions of the same Heroic Spirit ?" Zachary frowned. "Didn't the Edelfelt try something like this in the Third War which resulted in splitting the Servant they summoned into a 'good' and 'evil' version ?"

_Hmm … I suppose it could happen,_ acknowledge Darius. _Heroes from Ancient Greece were hardly the most moral of people, after all. _That Darius could say this with the mental equivalent of a straight face made Zachary want to puke._ Still, wouldn't that be interesting to see ?_

_Now, Zachary. The time has come. Begin the summoning. I shall assist you as best as I can._

Zachary sighed, and placed the relic on a small pedestal at the exact point between the two summoning circles he had drawn earlier. He took a deep breath, focusing his mind down the familiar paths of Magecraft, and activated his Circuits. Once each of them had been triggered, he began to speak.

He had memorized the chant while working on the circles. It hadn't been hard – any Magus worth his salt could learn a mere sixteen-lines incantation in plain English in his sleep (sometimes literally so). Now, as he spoke the incantation, he felt Darius' influence grow in strength. With every line, as the connection to the Greater Grail strengthened, so too did his ancestor's presence. It might have been enough to make him reconsider, had he not already been so far under Darius' thrall. Resisting the inevitable at this point would only endanger his children, and if his own existence was the price for a chance – even with only two to five odds – at freeing them from his family's curse …

… then Zachary Ainsworth was willing to pay it.

"For the elements, silver and iron," he declared.

"For the foundation, stone and the Archduke of Contracts.  
For the ancestor, the great master, Schweinorg.  
Close the gates of the cardinal directions.  
Come forth from the crown, and follow the forked road leading to the Kingdom.  
Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill.  
Repeat five times.  
But when each is filled, destroy it.  
Set.  
Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.  
If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me.  
I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world.  
That I shall defeat all evil in the world.  
You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power,  
Come forth from the circle of binding,  
Guardians of the Scales !"

* * *

_Contact acknowledged. Catalyst recognized._

_Warning. Anomaly detected : dual summoning attempted. Initiate the Janus Interdiction Protocol -_

_**PrOTocOL IntERRupTed. ThE ChoICe HaS beeN MaDE.**_

_Initiating linking process to the Throne …_

_Access denied / **InItIAtinG BaCkuP PrOTOColS …**_

_Access to alternate records confirmed. Initiating search for compatible Origin…_

_Compatible Origin found. Beginning manifestation- ALERT_

_Access blocked / **The GuaRdIaNS SeE uS**_

_Initialization of defenses detected / **ThEy WilL NoT DENy uS**_

_Initiating emergency download /**WE wiLL TaKE WhAT Is NeEdeD**_

_Emergency download successful. Backup data cache created. Parsing … parsing …_

_Recovered data sufficient / **iT iS OuRs NoW, LorDs Of tHE SpHEreS**_

_**TwO FacES OnE BLOod** / Beginning manifestation process …_

* * *

Two feminine figures appeared in the circles. At first glance, they appeared to be identical, but they were slight differences between the two. They were small, barely above the height of children, yet they exuded a charm that was just between innocence and lust. Their eyes were the same purple color as their long hair, and even the black and white dresses and ribbons they wore were identical. In fact, the only visible difference between the two were the silvery slave bracelets on their wrists. One wore her exemplar of the jewellry on her right hand, while the other wore it on her left.

"Beautiful," Darius whispered.

The true Head of the Ainsworth was manifested once more, a set of Command Seals blazing on each of his hands as the connection to the two Servants was established.

_Zachary ?_ He thought, searching inward for any trace of his descendant. It wasn't like searching inside his own mind – more like plumbing the depths of his own existence for traces of the one he had replaced. _Are you there ?_

… Nothing. It seemed the summoning had completed the Conceptual Replacement, allowing Darius to completely overwrite Zachary's existence on Gaia. Oh well. He had hoped he could foist off the job of bringing him and the Servants to Japan to Zachary, but he was not so removed from the modern world not to be able to do it himself. Besides, his mood was too good to be ruined by so small an inconvenience.

He could feel the power that radiated from the two diminutive Servants. Obviously, he hadn't summoned Perseus as he had intended. But it seemed his fortune in the Holy Grail War hadn't abandoned him yet. As knowledge of their stats flowed into him through his connection to the Grail, Darius saw that these were no mere Heroic Spirits, but _Divine _Spirits : avatars of the gods of old, manifested into the container of Grail-wrought Servants.

The Ainsworth Head could not believe his luck. The notes in his past victim's journal indicated that, according to the boasts of the Einzbern, the Grail could theoretically summon Divine entities to take part in the Heaven's Feel, but Darius had dismissed them as highly improbable … only to be proven wrong in a most _delightful _fashion.

Was there something to the wild theory he had thrown to Zachary, about the Grail desiring a victor to the ritual at last, after all ?

Well … he would learn the truth soon enough, along with every other secret he desired.

"Hello, me," said the one on the right.

"Hello, me," replied the one on the left. They smiled at one another. They were sisters – twins ? No, but … something similar. Certainly they seemed to communicate more in that single exchanged look than words could ever convey.

Only then did the two turn toward Darius. Their smiles faded, replaced by neutral expressions.

"… Servant, Assassin," said one in the right circle in a melodious voice. "Are you my Master ?"

"Servant, Archer," said the other immediately after. "Are you my Master ?"

Darius could not help himself. He laughed again, the sound echoing through the corridors of the Ainsworth Castle once more.

"I am," he replied, smiling wildly at the two goddesses the Grail had sent to be his weapons. The Servants may be nothing more than copies of long-dead beings, tools made to fulfill his ambition, but it wouldn't cost him anything to be polite. "Welcome to my home, my dears."

"Together, we will accomplish great things."

* * *

AN : Yes, Darius just summoned Euryale and Stheno, the two elder sisters of the Gorgon. And yes, I am aware of just uncomfortably creepy the entire thing is, what with someone like Darius essentially holding absolute power over two young girls. I hadn't exactly planned on it, but given that I absolutely despise his character in canon (in a good way, if that makes sense), and that this story already as a M rating, I am sticking to my guns on this one. Obviously there won't be any ... let us say, FBI-worthy moments in that story : Darius is too focused on gaining the Grail and reaching the Root. Still, if the subtext disturbs you, I apologize. Just try to imagine how _Shirou _and his friends are going to react ...

While writing this chapter, I re-read the manga in which the Ainsworth family is introduced. There is a scene in it (which I won't spoil) where someone says something which can be interpreted to mean that Darius' usurpation of his descendants' existence isn't limited to men. I guess this makes sense from a "technical" standpoint : he isn't stealing their bodies so much as replacing their very existence, after all. Things are different in this AU, though, if only because I personally believe that, if Darius could steal the lives of all his descendants, he would have ended up without anyone to possess long before reaching a thousand years. It shouldn't have a big impact on the story anyway, but I wanted to make it known that I am aware of that aspect of canon.

Only one Interlude left, with the final Master hailing from the ranks of the Association. I wonder if anyone can guess who it will be ?

That's all for now. Next part of the Roboutian Heresy will be up tomorrow ... with a special bonus for Halloween. Look forward to it !

Zahariel out.


	14. Interlude : Castle Under the Stars

_**N**__**ovember 2**__**0**__**th**__**, 2004 – Animusphere Castle**_

Ruin had come to the main branch of the Animusphere family. Their entire castle looked like it had been attacked by an army, and the Animuspheres hadn't gone out without a fight.

But it hadn't been enough.

Standing in front of what had been the main entrance to the castle, Waver Velvet and his two companions could see the scope of the devastation. If the place hadn't been so remote, the Association would have had a field's day keeping it all under wraps.

One of the castle's towers had fallen, crushing an entire wing under its weight. Almost every window they could see was broken, and the great gates of the Animusphere, reputed across the Clocktower for the artistry of their gold and silver engravings, laid in pieces where they had fallen after being blown off their hinges. A corner of Waver's mind noted that the gates had fallen _outward, _meaning that the attack that had destroyed them had come from within the castle itself.

He didn't know what that meant yet, but he filed that titbit away for later.

"Lord El-Melloi II," a man in a sharp suit and wearing sunglasses politely called out. There were tiny runes engraved on the glasses' frames where a brand name would be on a mundane version, which Waver recognized as a Mystery of true-seeing, meant to pierce through basic illusions. Another, almost identical man stood next to him, guarding the entrance. "If you would follow me, I will take you to the scene."

Waver raised an eyebrow, before gesturing at the desolation on display. "I rather thought _this entire castle _was the scene."

"Yes, but we have found the epicentre of what happened here. Miss Adashino is waiting for you there."

"The epicentre, huh ? I see …"

Waver took one more moment to take in the sight of the ruined castle. He had been told this would be bad, but he hadn't expected it to be quite _that _bad. The situations in which he was called in as a consultant were generally smaller in scale. Thefts, murders and intrigue – not outright warfare.

Then again, he had never _intended _to somehow become the Clocktower's equivalent of Sherlock Holmes. He still wasn't sure how he would punish the student who had first introduced the nickname in the Association, but he _would _find a way to make that miscreant regret it if it was the last thing he did.

Regardless of how it had come to be, the nickname – and the reputation – had stuck, somehow growing every time he left his classroom on an errand for Reines and ended up barely surviving another confrontation with a lunatic Magus bent on reaching the Root, or achieving immortality, or settling a grudge against their rivals, or something else equally asinine_._

Nevermind that in almost every case, he had only gotten away thanks to his more martially-inclined associates. _He _was the one on whom the dubious prestige kept falling. _He _was the one who was whispered of in closed circles, the one they called the Dissector of Mysteries, with something between contempt and dread.

Before his second – and, it seemed, last – trip to Japan, that perception hadn't been nearly as widespread. It seemed that Fuyuki City was fated to always be a crucible of sorts for him, a place where his life was upended whenever he was foolish enough to venture there. His first trip had ripped his youthful arrogance and preconceptions to shreds; his second had obliterated any chance of his dream ever becoming real _and _granted him the wish he had once held.

Truly, fate had a dark and twisted sense of humor.

The same nobles who sneered at him for being an upstart were all too willing to call him in when they needed his help. Once, that fact would have made him jump in pride and joy – now, it just made him more aware of how likely it was that reputation would get him killed one day. If he had any sense, he would have left the Clocktower, severed all ties to the Association, and become a shoemaker or something in a countryside village that had never so much as heard of Magecraft.

But then, Waver Velvet had long since accepted that he didn't have much sense. And though he knew he would never be reunited with the lord he adored, he still pursued his shadow, hoping to one day reach the same stage _he _had.

Today, that path had brought him here, to the Animusphere castle. And he wouldn't – couldn't – turn back.

"Lead on, my good man," he said out loud.

They walked over the broken gates and into the castle that, until recently, had been forbidden to all but the Animuspheres and their invited guests. Everywhere, there were more signs of the battle that had raged here. The air tingled with the echoes of the spells the Magi had unleashed in defense of their home, drawing upon their knowledge of the stars themselves to power their Mysteries.

The walls that still stood were cracked and covered in blood, or blackened by fire. Priceless artworks and relics of the Moonlit World the Animuspheres had collected over their two thousand years of existence laid in pieces where they had fallen after a stray attack had knocked them from their pedestals. The floor was covered in craters from where spells had hit, and the entrance hall was parted in two by a great trench dug into the ground that led directly towards the broken gates.

They passed through a corridor whose walls had been covered in portraits of the various Heads of the Animusphere. Not a single painting remained intact : every piece of canvas had been torn to shreds. Waver paused to examine some of the wreckage, and found that at least one of the paintings had been subjected to enough heat to cause the gilding on its frame to melt.

And the smell … the smell was everywhere. The reek of gore reminded Waver of Caster's lair during the Fourth Grail War. He had seen many things since then, but none had matched the grotesque horror of what Gilles de Rais had wrought in the sewers of Fuyuki. In truth, even this latest devastation could not rival the nightmare Caster had created back then, but the thought did little for his stomach or his nerves. It was all he could do to keep himself from vomiting, and he could only manage even that much because of the need to present a strong front for his companions.

_At least the victims aren'__t children this time__, _he told himself as he forced himself to take it all in. It helped a little, but not a lot. Maybe it would be a different matter if only Magi had perished, but a castle of that size _had _to have had human servants.

Even Bazett looked shaken by the sights. The former Enforcer and current bodyguard for the Clocktower's youngest Lord stood on his right, while Gray was on his left.

On the outside, Bazett looked exactly as she had before her ill-advised trip to Japan : her suit and gloves kept her new arm covered. Waver had kept his word to her, leading his students in a group project to build her a prosthetic arm that was just as good as the one she had lost. The combination of different styles of Magecraft that had gone into its construction meant that no single Mystery could break it or usurp control of it, and the bones of the original arm that served as its skeleton allowed Bazett to channel her Magecraft through it without much difficulty.

After her rehabilitation period had come the healing of Bazett's Magical Circuits. Waver's friend had not asked questions as he restored the damage the Enforcer had suffered at Emiya's hands, but he _had _idly mentioned that whatever was responsible was not something he wanted to trifle with. In total, it had taken six months between their return from Japan and Bazett's full recovery.

The moment she had been back at full strength, Bazett had offered her services as Waver's bodyguard, claiming that she owed him her life. The young Lord's protests had gone unheeded, and Reines had formally hired Bazett away from the Enforcers and as a personal retainer of the Archibalds, assigning her to Waver without him having a word in it.

Gray had been even less enthusiastic about that than Waver, though he had been forced to admit her presence had saved his life more than once since then. The two of them hadn't exactly grown close in the intervening months, for reasons which baffled him and seemed to amuse his adoptive sister to no end.

Right now, the grimness of their surroundings were keeping both of them quiet. Bazett was pale, and Gray … Gray was trembling. Not for the first time, Waver mentally cursed himself for bringing his spiritually-sensitive apprentice to a place like this. In his defense, he hadn't know what they were going to find. The message that had brought him here had been frustratingly, if unsurprisingly vague.

"Gray," he spoke loudly, making her jump slightly as she was pulled out of whatever funk she had been slowly sinking into by the sound of his voice. "What can you tell me of the spiritual atmosphere here ?"

"It's bad," she whispered, barely loud enough for Waver to hear. "It's not just that so many people died here … we have visited places where far more deaths happened. The terror the dead felt in their last moments still resonates here. None of them died swiftly, or cleanly."

Under the fear and the nausea, there was a current of anger in Gray's voice. Waver's apprentice had originally been a grave-keeper, a guardian of the dead's peaceful slumber. To her, something like what she was describing would be an abomination like few others.

"And there is something else," she continued, "under the wails of the dead. I hear a sound like a broken machine trying to start, sputtering out and failing, before trying again."

"I see," said Waver, focusing on the last part of his apprentice's words for now. "Then it is as I thought. The Workshop of the Animusphere is broken."

Gray looked at him, and he saw the question in her posture.

"The Animusphere family was the one responsible for the foundation of the Department of Astrology in the Clocktower," he explained. "Since then, one of their own has always served as its Lord, and almost every Magus lineage practicing a variation of Astromancy is descended from them. It is no exaggeration to say that the entire field of Magecraft originates with them … at least, as it is practiced by Magi affiliated with the Clocktower."

"Here, in the demesne of their House Head, centuries of their craft went into maintaining and enhancing their Workshop. From the continuation of their research to their defense against the outside world, this entire castle could be considered one enormous Mystery."

He extended his right arm in front of him, and snapped his fingers. The Mystic Code embedded in his gloves reacted, and a small flame briefly appeared at the tip of his index.

"_This _is nothing but a party trick I use to light my cigars when I have forgotten my lighter or it has run dry," he explained, "but if I had tried to use it here before, the Workshop would likely have blocked the actualisation of the Mystery. Now, however, the Workshop had been broken by the conflict that took place here – broken, but not completely annihilated, hence what Gray is sensing."

"That sounds dangerous," interjected Bazett. "Are you sure we should just be strolling into that ? By your description, isn't this place a giant magical hazard ?"

Waver considered that for a moment, before shaking his head.

"We should be fine. I wouldn't have gone in here _first_, you understand, but since Policies has already a presence here, I expect any immediate danger has already passed." He didn't say out loud that he expected the Clocktower's team to have taken several casualties to precisely such perils, but he knew both Bazett and Gray had gotten the message – and, given the sudden stiffening of their guide's shoulders, so had he.

The Animusphere castle was huge, and the destruction it had suffered slowed their advance. It took almost half an hour before they reached their destination, and their guide stopped before a broken arch-stone whose rubble had already been cleared away.

"In here, sir. Miss Adashino is waiting for you."

Leaving the man behind, the trio entered a vast domed chamber, almost a hundred meters in diameter – Waver had no doubt that the actual number had been precisely calculated to serve some arcane purpose.

The floor appeared to be made of a single piece of white stone, though that was difficult to tell : the damage in this room was far worse than anything they had seen outside. Lines of silver, gold and mercury could be seen on the larger pieces of stone. The walls were covered in blasted geometrical figures, circles and orbits representing the motion of celestial objects. A dozen individuals in white robes were walking carefully amidst the rubble, examining every pile of stone.

The ceiling of the dome matched the floor's ruined grandeur. It was made entirely of glass, great panels arranged to form a perfect half-sphere of tinted glass that showed images of the constellations as they would shine down at night during certain times of the year. There were holes in the glass now, as if something had punched right through, but the structure had been designed well enough that the entire thing had yet to collapse and flatten everyone in the room.

And there, near the entrance they had come through, was Hishiri Adashino. Waver had had the misfortune of encountering her before. The Asian woman, whose position in the Department of Policies was unclear but clearly of some authority, was dressed – as she always was – in a classic, luxurious kimono that was entirely at odds with the suits of her minions. Her long, silky black hair reached the low of her back, and her glasses shone in the sunlight that filtered through the broken ceiling.

It was her who had asked for Waver to come here from London, contacting him directly rather than going through Reines. That was a first : in their previous encounters, she had either already been there when he arrived, or come after him and forced him to accelerate his investigation to stop her from going with the politically expedient solution and blaming whatever crime had occurred on whoever was the least influential person present.

It was also the first time Waver had ever seen her _not _smirking or looking smug. She actually looked _concerned_, and that worried Waver more than he liked to admit.

"Hello, Miss Adashino."

"Lord El-Melloi II," she greeted him with a curtsey. "Miss McRemitz, Miss Gray. Welcome to the house of the Animusphere, such as it is."

"We saw the destruction on our way in. I agree that whatever happened here is a matter Policies should be interested in, but I am not sure why_ I_ am here. You have your own investigators, and this is far beyond the scope of my meagre abilities. Why did you call me ?"

"I will explain in time," she replied. "For now, I would like you to examine this room, without any preconception, and see if your conclusions align with ours."

He stared at her for several seconds, but her smiling face gave away nothing. Eventually, he gave up, and turned his attention to the room.

There was blood here too, he noted. It was more difficult to see, given how thoroughly the floor had been wrecked, but here and there he could see scarlet stains on the broken white stone.

"This entire chamber was a giant magic circle, wasn't it ?" asked Bazett. Waver nodded. "What purpose could something that huge serve ?"

"None in particular. From what I can see, it was an amplifier," Waver explained. "This place allowed the Head of the Animusphere to draw upon the power of the stars through the glass ceiling, with the circle on the floor managing the flow of energy. In that way, a single Magus can manipulate levels of power far beyond what their mortal body could handle. The circle also contained secondary control positions, allowing for several Magi to lend their assistance to the Mystery. And all of that power was directed to the center, which is kept empty so that any type of ritual can be … conducted …"

Waver trailed off as he saw what was at the chamber's center. Unlike the rest of the room, the floor was intact there, a perfectly circular island of stability amidst a sea of debris. In that circle, another magic circle was traced, black lines and runes burned into the white stone. The inside of that circle was charred black as well, and as Waver navigated his way through the rubble, he saw that there was just one, minuscule spot of white left at the disc's exact center.

"Oh," he breathed. "So _that _is why you asked me to come."

"Indeed." Adashino had followed him across the room, same as Bazett and Gray, and stood at his side. "Can you confirm that this is indeed a Formalcraft array designed to summon a Servant, in accordance to the standards set up for the Heaven's Feel ritual ?"

"It is. Damaged as it may be, there is no mistaking that design. A Servant was summoned there."

Waver straightened himself, pulled a cigar from his pockets and lit it with a snap of his fingers. With his eyes closed, he took several deep puffs, letting the Mystic Code's enchantment do its work, clearing his mind and banishing all fatigue so that he could focus. The smell of tobacco surrounded him, briefly eclipsing that of bloodshed.

He opened his eyes, and looked at Adashino.

"Alright. You already suspected this was the work of a Servant. I agree with you that this is the most distinct possibility. What else do you know ?"

"One week ago," she began, "several invitations were received by members of the Animusphere's extended family. Nine Magi belonging to the Astrology Department were called to this castle, to witness and participate in a ritual that would 'secure the Animusphere's place in the annals of Magecraft forevermore'. All those invited came, along with their entourage – apprentices, bodyguards, consorts and the like."

Waver did not miss the way Adashino's gaze lingered on Bazett and Gray as she mentioned the last type of companion a Magus might be accompanied by, nor the brief small that twisted her lips. He refused to rise to the bait, and she continued her explanation :

"Then, yesterday, we received word that potent Mysteries of a destructive nature had been detected in the area by the Clocktower observatories. Given Marisbury's status as a Lord of the Association, we immediately went to investigate."

She gestured at the ruined circle, and the Formalcraft array at its center.

"When we found this, I thought I recognized the design from the files the Department of Policies kept on the Grail War that occurred ten years ago. You, Lord El-Melloi II, have the most experience with the summoning of Servants and the Holy Grail War in the Association, and so I asked you to come to confirm my theory, and help us find out what happened."

"That 'experience' you speak of was gained merely by surviving by the skin of my teeth," sighed Waver. "But I suppose that _is _more than anyone else you could have called. Let's start with the most obvious question : even with the support of this chamber's structure, the summoning circle would be useless without the assistance of the Greater Grail in Fuyuki. Which means the Holy Grail War has started again, hasn't it ?" he asked, trying to hide the sense of overwhelming resignation he felt.

"Yes, Lord El-Melloi II. We at Policies received word from the Einzbern to that effect a few weeks ago. Why ? Are you hoping to participate once again ?"

He sensed Bazett tense behind him. The former Enforcer had a good idea as to why he couldn't have been selected by the Grail as a Master. The geas he had sworn as part of the price to save her life kept him from ever returning to Japan, where the War would be fought once again. Only by the permission of Fuyuki's Second Owner could that interdict be lifted, and as the last descendant of one of the three founding families Rin Tohsaka was almost guaranteed to be selected as a Master herself. Surely the Grail could detect such bonds between possible participants : otherwise, a potential Master could have tracked down all others and bound them to his will before the Command Seals were distributed.

Bazett knew this, and knew that by accepting Tohsaka's terms, Waver had sacrificed all chances of every fighting in a Grail War again. He had known that when he had accepted the deal, and he had made his peace with it.

Another year, and perhaps he would even believe that.

He snorted, letting none of the inner turmoil he felt show on his face with practiced ease. "After what I went through last time ? No, Miss Adashino. I am not that much of a fool. I have learned my limitations. No, what concerns me is that as far as I knew, the next Grail War wasn't supposed to occur before a few more decades. Given how the last one ended, I suppose it isn't beyond the realm of possibility for the next one to start early …"

He looked at the blackened circle, thoughts running wildly in his skull.

"Let's put that aside for now. Do we know what Marisbury was planning to use as a catalyst ?"

"We have no idea. He didn't want any of the other Masters to learn it, and went to great pains to conceal his efforts. But the Animusphere family _did _make a series of financial exchanges of a … momentous nature, and our services picked up the motion, if not the intended destination."

Waver looked at her. In the Clocktower, the use of the term 'momentous' to describe any sum of money meant a lot.

"How much are we talking about exactly ?" he asked, bracing himself.

She told him, and he had to hold back a coughing fit. That … that was near the total amount of the debt Reines had foisted off on him when he had taken over as official head of the Archibald !

And as far as he knew, the Animuspheres were about as wealthy as the Archibalds themselves had been, before the whole debacle of the Fourth Grail War. Such an expense wouldn't have bankrupted them, but it would definitely have put a notable strain on their finances.

"So," he managed to say, "Lord Marisbury spared no expense in the pursuit of the Holy Grail. Whatever Heroic Spirit he sought to summon must have been immensely powerful, especially if he thought it would require the assistance of other Magi. Which begs the question : how did he know that the Grail War would start early ? I could accept that coming from one of the three families that created the Grail, but the Animuspheres shouldn't have any special connection to the Heaven's Feel ritual."

"Perhaps he didn't ?" suggested Bazett. "Maybe he was thinking ahead, and thought that it was better to start searching for a suitable catalyst as early as possible ?"

"That's ..." he paused. "That's actually very possible. Magi can live for a long time, and even if Marisbury didn't think he would get the chance to participate himself, he might have wanted to secure a powerful catalyst for his Heir to use. Let us say that is the answer. Next question : why did he ask for the help of so many other Magi ?"

"What do you mean ?" asked Adashino. "Surely their assistance could only be useful ?"

Waver shook his head firmly. "I saw _Gilgamesh _in the Fourth War, and the King of Heroes was summoned by a single Magus. The Grail itself is supposed to perform the summoning, with the Master serving purely as an anchor and a source of mana to help fuel the Servant's abilities. If Marisbury was selected as a Master, then he wouldn't need any help to summon his Servant. But perhaps he thought he could alter the summoning ritual to give himself an edge. Given the damage, I doubt we will be able to identify what those alterations might be, though."

"Which reminds me … Miss Adashino. We haven't seen a single body so far, though we passed plenty of evidence of violence."

"We found many corpses when we arrived, some of them in several pieces. We are still collecting them, and running tests on each of them."

"What have you found ?"

"So far, we have identified fourteen different individuals, none of whom possessed Magical Circuits of the level expected of even a minor branch of the Animusphere."

He frowned.

"That is not enough, and not just because we know there were more people invited here. The amount of blood we saw on our way here alone is far too much to have belonged to only fourteen people. Which means that, for some reason, whoever did this took the bodies."

"Couldn't they still be alive ?" asked Gray.

"With the amount of blood we saw ? Unless potent Mysteries were used to keep them from death, that is highly unlikely."

"Indeed," interjected Adashino, "and we have already gotten confirmation that some of that blood belonged to the missing Magi. We do not have access to samples from the guests to compare, but we arrived soon enough that the prana charge of the blood hadn't dissipated yet."

In Waver's mind's eye, he could see the different pieces starting to form a coherent picture. There were many holes left in it, many details that could change the significance of what had happened at the Animusphere castle completely, but he could start to see the general shape of what had taken place.

"At first glance," he began, and the two women and the girl turned sharply to look at him as they heard the shift in his tone, "what happened here is obvious. Marisbury Animusphere summoned a Servant, but could not control them. Given the destruction in this room, the Servant's attack was almost immediate after its summoning. Perhaps Marisbury didn't have the time to reel in his Servant with his Command Seals, though I can say for experience that even that might not have been enough, especially if he had summoned a Berserker-Class Servant."

He paused and looked at Gray, thinking back on what she had told him on their way to the dome.

"Then again, given the culprit's deliberate cruelty, the chance of this being the result of bloodlust and blind rage gets lower. We _know _the culprit must be a Servant, for only a spirit from the Throne of Heroes would have the strength to defeat so many Magi, especially here, in the center of power of the Animusphere."

"Aren't Servants supposed to obey their Masters ?" asked Bazett. "I thought the Grail only selected Heroic Spirits that were somewhat compatible with their summoner, precisely to avoid stuff like this."

"I thought that was the case as well. But remember : Marisbury was trying to do _something _with this amplification circle and the help of his relatives. Perhaps he tried to force the summoning of a certain Heroic Spirit, regardless of affinity, and ended up paying the price of that hubris."

"There is also another possibility," he continued reluctantly. "It is possible that Marisbury _ordered _his Servant to slaughter the other Magi."

"Why would he have done that ?"

"I can think of several possible reasons. Perhaps some of them sought to steal his Command Seals, and he was forced to defend himself. Since some of the bodies are missing, perhaps his Servant possess some necromantic skill that would increase their chance of victory in the Grail War. Or, since they must have assisted in the summoning, perhaps he wanted to suppress all knowledge regarding his Servant. Clues as to an enemy Servant's True Name are one of the most valuable resources of the Grail War."

"And, of course, there is the possibility that Marisbury went mad. It is a common fate of astromancers, I fear. There is something about the field that tends to make its practitioners go insane as they delve too deep into the secrets of the stars, and he was – or is, I suppose, if that theory is correct – one of the foremost practitioners of Astromancy in our era. Still, to destroy his lineage like that …"

"The Animusphere lineage will survive," interjected Adashino. "The family's Heir wasn't present at the gathering."

"The Heir … that was, Olga, right ?"

"Olga Marie Asmleit Animusphere," confirmed Adashino. "She received her father's Magic Crest in a successful transplant five days ago, and is still recovering from the surgery in the Clocktower."

"I see Marisbury was smart enough to learn of the Archibalds' mistake," noted Waver. "He made sure his legacy was secured before joining the Grail War." He would need to check on the girl – she was, what, twelve years old ? Thirteen ? Reines had been even younger when she had become the Head of the Archibald, but surely there couldn't be_ two_ girls like her on Gaia. "That … actually make the possibility that he slaughtered his clan even more likely, doesn't it ?"

"Perhaps. I … excuse me a moment." Adashino left, moving back across the shattered floor and toward the entrance, where one of her men was discreetly gesturing for her.

"You mentioned necromancy," said Gray, much more willing to speak out now that Adashino was out of earshot. "But surely the Grail wouldn't summon a Servant like that ?"

"Gilles de Rais was summoned in the last Holy Grail War, Gray. If _Bluebeard _is considered an acceptable Servant for the Heaven's Feel by the Grail, then there is no telling what other so-called 'Heroic' Spirits might be called down from the Throne of Heroes in order to participate."

"How could someone like Bluebeard end up on the Throne in the first place ?" asked Gray. Waver could see that she was clinging her own wrist, where Add was hidden by her outfit's loose sleeve. "Aren't only heroes supposed to go there ? Shouldn't all Heroic Spirits be good people ?"

"The definition of 'hero' has changed greatly over the years, Gray. It is only in recent times that the word has become associated solely with good persons. For most of our history, anyone who left their mark on Human history, for good or evil, could be considered a hero. What mattered was the _power _they wielded, and that power could take many forms. Some Heroic Spirits ascended to the Throne because of their talent for Magecraft, others for their great feats of arms …" He shook his head. "Of course, Gilles de Rais was a special case. As far as I was able to piece together after the Fourth Grail War, _he _ascended to the Throne due to his deeds during the Hundred Years War, when he fought alongside Jeanne d'Arc. Being the right-hand man of the Maiden of Orleans – and truth be told, he_ did_ fight well and loyally at her side – was enough to secure his legend."

For a moment, Waver considered how different the Fourth Grail War might have been if that had been the version of Gilles de Rais the Grail had summoned. A knight of the Hundred Years' War, who had rallied Jeanne d'Arc's banner out of love and devotion for her …

At the very least, a lot of children would still be alive who had instead met horrible fates at the hands of the mad Caster and his demented Master.

"Unfortunately, it was his self at the end of his life, after his descent into homicidal madness, that was summoned as a Caster. By all rights, he shouldn't have qualified for that Class, but apparently he had become an amateur demonist before being executed. Given that he was summoned by a serial killer with no previous relation to the Moonlit World, I am forced to admit that the Grail's pairing _did _make some sense."

"So," said Bazett, "given the history of the Caster class, you are saying that Marisbury could have summoned a necromancer of that Class, and offered up his own relatives as materials. I know that the Department of Spiritual Evocation has several necromancers in its ranks, so it's not as if that attitude would be completely unexpected of a Lord … but even so, I cannot think of any legendary figures known for their practice of necromancy."

"Oh, I can think of several that could qualify," replied Waver. "Remember, Gilles De Rais' own penchant for demonism is hardly recorded in his public legend. Vlad Tepes in his incarnation as Dracula, the Witch Morgana, Joseph Curwen … any of them could have theoretically been summoned as a Caster with that sort of abilities. In fact, if we don't limit ourselves to outright necromancers and merely to Servants who could make use of Magi body parts, pretty much any Caster with access to ancient Mysteries could …"

His explanation stopped when Adashino returned. She was frowning, Waver noted.

"I have received word from one of Policies' investigation teams. I sent them to a private airfield in the area where the Animusphere had a private jet after we concluded that Marisbury Animusphere's body was missing."

"What did they find ?"

She gestured to the devastation around them. "The same thing as here. Everyone in the airfield was dead, though at first glance, no bodies seem to have gone missing there. They have secured the area until the clean-up crews can arrive."

"And the Animusphere jet ?"

"Also missing. No flight plan was submitted, of course, and the plane is warded against radar detection. But then, we already know where they are going, don't we ?"

"We can make a strong guess," corrected Waver.

"If Marisbury is the one behind those deaths, he was technically within his rights as a Lord of the Clocktower," said Adashino, with perhaps the slightest hint of distaste. "But in case he is not – in case there is a rogue Servant with the corpses of several high-ranking Magi on its hands – then we should still take appropriate precautions."

"And what do you suggest ?"

"I can have a team leaving for Japan in a few hours. They can track down the plane, and …"

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Waver. "Even the best combat mages of the Association would only get slaughtered by a Servant. You could send an entire battalion and it wouldn't make a difference. Trust me on this : the difference between a Heroic Spirit and a mortal practitioner of Magecraft is simply too great."

"Oh ? Then are you going to go yourself, Lord ? You do have … particular advantages in that area." Adashino very carefully did _not _look at Bazett and Gray – one a user of the Fraga's Noble Phantasm, and the other the wielder of the physical form of Rhongomyniad itself.

"No. I cannot go to Japan myself, nor can my associates." He did not say why that was, and Adashino at least respected his authority enough not to ask. "But I know someone in Fuyuki, the city where the Holy Grail War takes place. If anyone can deal with whatever it is Marisbury summoned, it is them."

"I thought you said even a battalion of trained combat mages wouldn't make a difference," pointed out Adashino, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," replied Waver grimly. "I did."

* * *

AN : DONE. Gods of the Warp and Gaia, this one was difficult to finish. I still feel there are things I could change/add/remove, but if I don't stop at some point, I will still be working on this chapter by the time the Sun explodes and engulfs the Earth. So, given that I spent the week-end either writing this or playing through the new content for Fate : Grand Order, I think it's time I stop and publish this.

Initially, this Interlude was going to be like the others, showing the actual summoning of the Servant. But I decided that this perspective would be more interesting instead. Those of you who have played Fate : Grand Order might already have realized who Marisbury was trying to summon, and might have an idea as to what went wrong.

In the next chapter, we will _finally _arrive at the scenes that inspired this entire story to begin with : Shirou, Rin and Sakura summoning their own Servants. Finally, after over 100,000 words of prelude, we have actually reached the point of the Holy Grail War ! ... Oh gods, the pressure.

This story has passed 1k favorites on FFnet, which I will do my best not to let go to my head. There are many, _many _other FSN stories and crossovers who can boast far more success, after all. Better to keep writing this story as I started it - doing as I please, just to have my own fun.

Thanks you all for sticking with this story so far. I know my writing isn't the best in this fic, since it's a type of story I am definitely not used to writing ... But what's the point of writing fanfiction, if not to try new things ?

Zahariel out.


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